Rebecca Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/rebecca-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Rebecca's an underemployed, single mother with a surplus of good humor and innovative spirit. She's tackling No Impact Week for the second time on a shoestring budget with two little girls.

So far this week:

This will be my family's second No Impact Week experience. Our first go was illuminating and we're looking forward to more clarity. For coming up on two years now, we've been obsessed with reducing our plastic footprint by reducing the amount of new plastic that we buy or use, and by raising community awareness about the impact of petroleum-based plastics on our bodies and our environment.

I liked the perspective No Impact Week gave me last time on where and how our carbon footprint and our plastic footprint intersect, and how to reduce both. I'm most interested in finding sustainable ways to reduce my family's negative impact on our planet while increasing our positive impact.

And by sustainable, I mean that our lifestyle needs to be one that I can manage on the shoestring budget of an underemployed single parent of two young children who have dietary restrictions and atypical neuro-developmental challenges while living in a semi-rural community without any effective mass transit. This all can feel a bit daunting, but I like daunting things, and I've learned that restrictions can lead to incredible expansion of the things that really matter.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

My daughters Ava and Mira are with their dad this weekend, so I'm starting our second No Impact Week experience on my own. In the strange quiet, I wrote up this list of what we'll need to buy or bring home this week:

My dream man turned to hold me, leaning low to whisper in my ear "Rebecca, there is a general consensus amongst scientists that 60-80 percent of the plastics in the ocean come from land-based use ..."

Food for 2 kids, 1 adult, and 2 small dogs. We're stocked up on chicken, cat, and parakeet food for now.

Suet for our backyard birds.

Jeans for me.

The food isn't the sort of consumption this day is about, but the suet and jeans are. Thanks to my local Freecycle network, the suet's all taken care of. Someone posted seven blocks of suet for birds to the group yesterday and I was the lucky first responder. Since Liesl, my friend and cohort in living a life less plastic, was the second to reply, I'll share the suet with her, and our collective population of chickadees, nuthatches, and flickers will be happy for weeks.

Liesl and her family have been our inspiration to reduce the amount of new plastic we buy or use, and for almost two years now we've been working on an educational project we call Plastic Is Forever. I've become so obsessed with our plastic footprint, it's invaded my dreams: Awhile back, I had a lovely dream in which I was traipsing along my favorite beach, hand in hand with a tall handsome man, bathed in the apricot sunset light. My dream man turned to hold me, leaning low to whisper in my ear "Rebecca, there is a general consensus amongst scientists that 60-80 percent of the plastics in the ocean come from land-based use ..."

Even my fantasy life involves plastic, in the geekiest way possible.

It's this obsession that motivated me to try No Impact Week last time. I wondered how much my work to reduce our plastic footprint had also reduced our carbon footprint, and I wondered how many things I'd lost sight of in my focus on plastics. "A good bit" was the answer to both of those questions, so we're back for another try, to look again into the blind spots of my plastic-framed view of life.

Sometimes new clothes are a necessity, and this is one of those times. I need new jeans. In honor of No Impact Week, I've posted a "Wanted: jeans" request to Freecycle.

I have one pair of pants, jeans that I've been wearing almost daily for two years now. And either I've lost weight or the jeans have stretched beyond the point of no return, because along with the tissue-thin knees and mysterious stains, they just won't stay on—not even fresh from the dryer (yes, the energy-sucking dryer). Every morning when I put them on, a voice in my head sings out "saggy baggy elephant!" and that's not really the tackle-the-day self-image motivation I need. Since I don't have a full-time day job to report to, I can get away with one pair of pants and three shirts as my everyday wardrobe, although sometimes it's depressing.

Ever since my family's sudden plunge into involuntary simplicity, brought about by the loss of my now-ex-husband's job on election day 2008, we've been following the old "use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without" motto with new vigor. We dabbled in voluntary simplicity before, but there was money for back-to-school clothes and more than one pair of mom jeans.

Homemade school supplies.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

Not so these days, and that's OK. We make it work. To combine our vow to eliminate new plastic from our lives with our financial reality, we made some of our school supplies this year: Recycled felted wool sweaters became pencil cases and alternatives to Ziploc bags for school books; we turned a recycled paper binder into the plastic view windo binder on Mira's supply list.

I like this living with less plastic and less in general. There are days when I envy other people their new things, but that generally fades away quickly enough.

But sometimes new clothes are a necessity, and this is one of those times. I need new jeans. In honor of No Impact Week, I've posted a "Wanted: jeans" request to Freecycle. Normally, I'd head to the thrift store to spend two hours torturing myself by trying on used jeans, but I thought I'd give this more local option a try. I've never asked our Freecycle group for clothing before, but if this works, I'll have a pair of jeans that I can wear in public without the 35-minute drive to our closest affordable thrift store. Jeans for free, with no plastic packaging, and with a much smaller carbon footprint than usual: This is my consumption dream for the week.

Ah, transportation! This was the most difficult part of our first No Impact Week, and so far, that's holding true for this round.

I had planned it all out. The girls and I would skip to the bus stop in the dawn's clear light, and I'd get a lovely photo of the happy group of the 10+ kids at our stop helping each other onto those tall bus steps. Then I'd head home for a cup of high-carbon-footprint coffee (I'm weak that way) before I walked a mile and a bit up a big old hill to a meeting. I'd hitch a ride home from the meeting, and my travel for the day would be all over, with the lowest carbon footprint I could manage. La, la, la!

This didn't mesh well with Mira's plan for the day, which involved a sudden hatred of kindergarten, me, wearing shoes, me, catching the bus, and me (the world's meanest mother). Ava walked to the bus on her own while I did my best to help Mira transition out of the house. No luck. In desperation, with less than one minute until bus arrival, I wrestled Mira and her shoes into our car and drove the 3 blocks to our neighborhood bus stop. I mom-handled her out of the car onto the bus just in time, and waved as they drove off, Mira's tear-stained face glaring at me through the window. I did not get a photo. I was too busy thinking that Mira might be right, I might be a true contender for World's Meanest Mother.

Neither did I get my cup of coffee. By the time I had sent an email to Mira's teacher, filling her in about the rather rocky start to our day, I had just enough time to find my running shoes and hit the road.

If only it were simple to eat well. Because I can’t afford to buy all
the organic produce I want for my family, and because it’s usually all
wrapped up in plastic, we forage and grow and barter to fill our bellies
with seasonal vegetables and fruit. By eating seasonally, we keep the
costs low: It’s always less expensive to eat what’s abundant, and it
tastes much better. We have six hens in our backyard who supplement their
layer mash with the insects and plants they scratch up and our
non-spoiled leftovers (although they despise carrots and celery, they’ll
eat almost everything else).

We get our meat from a family
that runs cattle on native forage along the Columbia River; we buy 1/4
steer from them, and they deliver to the entire island in one frozen
truck load the night before our local Harvest Fair each year. For about
the same price as the beef at our local grocery store (true, our local
supermarket is more expensive than those off-island), we get grass-fed
beef cut-to-order from cattle that have never spent a minute in a
finishing lot or slaughterhouse. I save up each year to make this lump
sum purchase, and store our beef in a chest freezer I got via Freecycle.
I’ve read conflicting reports on the relative carbon footprints of
conventional and grass-fed beef; some say grass-fed is worse, some say
it isn’t. Without a doubt, a completely local vegetarian diet has the
smallest footprint of all, but we are omnivores, heavy on the veg with a
bit of meat.

Our shared community garden plot.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

We share a community garden plot with Liesl and family, our Pioneering the Simple Life
friends, so we can grow things that just don’t do well in our own home
garden plots. Right now we have 3 kinds of beans, 2 kinds of summer
squash, chysanthemum greens, walking onions, and rapini ready to
harvest, and beets, carrots, and more rapini coming along for later this
fall/winter. Sharing a garden plot is wonderful – We share the watering
on hot days, cover for each other when someone is out of town, and it’s
just more fun.

Mira with foraged bitterness.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

This spring, inspired by people like Ava Chin, the Urban Forager of the New York Times and Landgon Cook of Fat of the Land,
we set out to see how long we could go without buying produce. It
worked! We were so busy foraging for greens in our local ditches,
marshes, and yards, we forgot to plant our early summer garden. We ate
nettles, various cresses, and dandelions for months. My girls loved it,
and ate more greens than ever before—It’s much more fun to run the
edges of a wetland picking cress than it is to follow a shopping cart
around, and when you’ve found it on your own, it’s a treasure you can’t
wait to taste.

But then the flush of early greens was over, and our shared garden plot
was empty except for a bumper crop of beautiful purple top turnips with
amazing greens. Liesl and I cooked up an idea and our friend Scott James
helped make it happen. We started a local barter group, with a selfish
motive: We wanted early summer produce—kale, spinach, lettuce, peas,
strawberries—and all we had were turnips and eggs from our backyard
hens. Scott started a blog for us. We wrote up a short description of
what we had in mind, we shared it on Facebook and the hyper-local blogs
and online groups that make up our local grapevine, and the Bainbridge Barter Garden Variety Potluck in the Park was born.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

We meet every Saturday morning in a local park, telling anyone who’s
interested to “bring a basketful and leave with a basketful.” It’s not
really bartering, it’s a food gift economy. People bring whatever they
have to give away—bounty from their gardens, fishing boats, and
kitchens. We lay everything out on a public picnic table, take a few
minutes to answer any questions about the offerings, then we announce
the start of sharing and everyone digs in, filling their bags and
baskets with whatever they’d like.

I’ve brought turnips, eggs, home-made kimchi, home-baked cookies, zero-waste toothpaste, rhubarb shrub,
and borage. I’ve come home with kale, spinach, all sorts of other
greens, potatoes, perennial herb starts for my garden, home-baked bread,
cucumbers, summer squash, seeds for fall and spring vegetables,
home-made yogurt, bouquets of flowers, and freshly caught crab. I missed
the day when a famed local chef brought her home-made ravioli filled
with goat cheese and beet greens, and there have been other amazing
offerings.

Some of the offerings at our first Potluck in the Park.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

Not only have the potlucks in the park fed my family this summer,
participating has had a quietly profound impact on my brain’s default
settings. I find myself looking for things to share, for ways to be
generous. I’ve been able to break free from the scarcity model I’d been
in when we were struggling a while back to pay for even basic food.

We
are hard-wired, I think, to share food with each other, and I feel truly
blessed to have found a way to do that, to nourish and be nourished by
friends and by people who were strangers until we met over a picnic
table in the park.

Let me say this: It was a whole lot easier to reduce our energy use in September than it was during our first No Impact Week in January. Dawn came and brought us light in time for breakfast and our walk to the school bus stop. If we’d eaten dinner on time, there would have been enough dusky light for that meal, too. But we spent so long picking strawberries in my parents’ garden, we ate late by the light of our vegetable wax tea light candles.

We’ve refined our water consumption over the past year, thanks in
largest part to our first No Impact Week experience. We take shorter
showers and less frequent baths; we reuse water for plants when we can
capture it; and I almost never turn the kitchen faucet to full blast because
I’ve discovered a gentle trickle usually does the job in the same
amount of time. We were already running only full dishwasher loads and
washing our clothes in the least amount of (cold) water that will get
them clean. I practice a sort of benign neglect gardening that drives my
landlords (who are also my parents) crazy: If a plant can’t survive on
the rain that falls upon it, it dies and its neighbors cover its grave
with their healthier foliage.

But recently, thanks to one of our regular Month Less Plastic
experiments, I discovered a new way to save on water: baking soda. I
wash my dishes in baking soda. I’ve read that efficient modern
dishwashers use much less water than hand washing, but I think my baking
soda system could beat the best dishwasher.

Take the dirtiest dish you’ve got. In our house, that’s usually our
cast iron skillet after it has cooked up some of Mira’s beloved Jo-Jo’s Nettle Special,
a scramble a lot like New Joe’s Special. The combination of eggs and
ground beef does a good job of coating the bottom of the skillet.

If necessary, put a bit of water in the bottom of the pan or dish to soak any stubborn cooked-on food.

When the dish is ready to wash, pour any soaking water out. If the
dish is dry, sprinkle it with just enough water to dampen its surface.

Sprinkle on a bit of baking soda. For a large and very dirty skillet,
I use about two tablespoons; a dirty coffee cup takes about a teaspoon.

Get your hands in and use the baking soda and a bit of elbow grease
to scour the dish clean. You’ll be able to feel the bits of food or
grease or what-have-you giving way under your fingertips. When
everything feels clean, rinse it under a gentle flow of water—it won’t
take much water to remove the baking soda and the things it has cleaned
away. Since there are no bubbles or sticky slick soap to remove, you
won’t need to rinse for very long.

That’s all there is to it. I can wash an entire sink load of dirty
dishes, pots, pans, and glasses with very little water thanks to baking
soda.

I store my dish-washing baking soda in a jar with holes hammered in
its lid (a bug jar, basically). If you like, you can add drops of your
favorite essential oil(s) to the baking soda. I started out with
lavender and tea tree oils, but now I’m liking plain baking soda. It has
a very mild fragrance that reminds me of the grapefruit soda my
grandparents used to drink.

As an added bonus, you can use the dirty baking soda from your dishes
to scrub your sink clean before you start rinsing everything. If you
buy the largest paper box of baking soda in your local store, you’ll
have everything you need to clean your dishes, glasses, sink, bathtub,
shower, toilet, and more—all with no plastic packaging and less wash
water used.

We mixed things up a bit, so that Saturday
was our Eco-Sabbath, Sunday was our Giving Back day. Our regular
sabbath, aka Shabbat, is from sundown Friday through to Saturday night
when we can see three stars shining in the sky (airplanes and
satellites don’t count).

We do our best to reduce our use of money,
electricity, and our car, but our primary observance is focused on being
present for each other, building sacred space in time where we can be
with family and friends. My ex-husband, father of our daughters, comes
to visit almost every weekend, and we like to start Saturday with
something tasty to eat and a trip to the Bainbridge Barter Potluck
in the Park.

That’s what we did this past Saturday. We shared some grass-fed beef from our freezer and came home with kale, zucchini, daikon radishes, and a freshly baked spiral challah.

The Harvest Fair is a benefit of Bainbridge Island's Friends of the Farms group.

Photo by David D. Campbell

Our Giving Back Day lined up perfectly with our local Harvest Fair, the main fundraiser for Friends of the Farms, a Bainbridge Island group working to preserve and enhance local farming.

We signed up two volunteer shifts: 2 1/2 hours in the pie sales booth
followed by 2 hours helping fair-goers sort through their trash,
separating items into worm compost, hot pile compost, recycling, and
landfill buckets.

We started the day trying to keep the slices of blackberry, cherry
berry, and apple walnut pie from Blackbird Bakery from blowing off the
table in the gusts of wind, or from being drenched by the first heavy
rain of the season.

The downpour cleared around noon, pie sales picked up, and then the
sun came out and warmed everyone up. My friend Beth brought her young
goats by the booth, and they tried to eat the yellow flowers off the
tablecloth. Our human visitors were happy to stick with pie and more
pie, all proceeds going to Friends of the Farms.

Ava and Mira volunteer at the Bainbridge Island Harvest Fair.

Photo by Rebecca Rockefeller.

Ava counted back customers’ change and Mira ran our zero-waste booth
trash system. We set up boxes for compost (mostly errant pie crust bits
and a few paper napkins), recycling (the paper pie boxes and the
polyethylene plastic wrap the Health Department mandates when pie slices
are sitting out), and trash (the plastic wrapper from the compostable
forks). In return for their labors, they earned official volunteer
shirts and, even better by my reckoning, a sense of belonging to the
Harvest Fair and the local farming community.

When our pie booth shift was over, the girls enjoyed the fair with
their dad and some good friends while I had a great time digging through
garbage and helping people think about waste in new ways. I really do
love diverting waste from landfills. It’s immediate gratification and a
better future for my kids and everyone else, all at the same time.

As much as I love diverting waste, I love volunteering at events like
the Harvest Fair. It may not be paid work, but the Harvest Fair gives
real world support to our local farms and farmers, and we all reap the
benefits. Being a tiny part of that feels so good and it’s just plain
fun.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from the Eco-Sabbath: September 25thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 22:10:00 GMT-7ArticleBruce Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/bruce-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Bruce is a Chinese student navigating life in the West, seeing what he can learn about lower impact living from two very different cultures.

So far this week:

I am a student at University of Edinburgh, originally from China. During the week, I'm hoping to try a new way of exploring this historical and beautiful city of Edinburgh. Follow me to see how my second No Impact Week goes in a different culture—Scotland.

But before I start, you might be wondering the reason I joined the community. Well, this is actually one of the top three questions I got from my friends when I told them about my then upcoming experiment (right behind "What is it?" and "Really?") To be totally honest, I still don’t know what a proper answer would be. But I think this could be a good place to start my week—by asking myself why I should do it.

I should do it because if I don’t, then nobody will. No Impact Week is a collection of individual actions, which means that everybody counts. I, as many others who volunteer in this project, am indispensable for making a better planet. Therefore I should take the responsibility.

I should also do it because if I don’t, I might never get a second chance. We are facing more environmental challenges than ever before, and the problems are not getting better if we don’t take actions right now. No Impact Week is offering a chance for me and everyone to have a totally pain-free experience, and it feels so great to have a community that I can grow with to discover a healthier lifestyle.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

I think, for most people (myself included), over-consumption is a simple consequence of absent-mindedness rather than a staple product of unfulfilled need.

Last week was my first week in Edinburgh, so the expectation was that I had nothing in hand so I need to buy everything.

I did need some necessities to settle in the city. However when I looked at my receipts, I found that most of the things I bought were either food or water.

It's ironic since I am living in a self-catered flat, yet I only cooked once since I moved in. I was just buying too much food without noticing it.

What could be the possible explanation of my behavior, I asked myself. I think, most of the time and for most people (myself included), over-consumption is a simple consequence of absent-mindedness rather than a staple product of unfulfilled need. We are enjoying the biggest material comforts ever, but we are, in one way or another, abusing our convenience.

As a consumer, the default state of my mind is to buy pre-cooked food when I was hungry, and that’s probably why I ended up eating not-so-fancy food and spending quite a lot money. I couldn't even recall what I ate.

In order to cut down my unnecessary food consumption, I decided to cook more by myself this week and try not to eat at restaurants. I will do my best not to waste any food while cooking and share my food with my friends.

At the end of the day today, I decided to treat myself to a nice salad made of my leftovers, including two mooncakes I brought from China and some vegetables I left yesterday.
It’s a very simple salad. And you know what? It did taste great. All you need to do is to chop the mooncakes, carrots, pickles, and vegetables into small pieces, and season them with vinegar, soy sauce, olive oil, and a little basil leaves.
Bon appétit, enjoy the day!

It’s time to decide how I am going to commute in Edinburgh. Since I don’t have a car and I am not planning to have one, my options have been narrowed down to three: bus, bike, or walk, which, according to No Impact standard, are all quite sustainable.

My experiment started on the bus. I tried to take a bus to my flat today, but somehow it managed to baffle me. First, since there isn’t any detailed route plan at the stops, I wasn’t able to find the bus I needed to take. Second, even when I finally got on the bus, I couldn’t really tell where I should get off as the calling speakers on the buses are just too light.

It’s like the only way I can get to where I am going is to know the place in advance. Besides, the ticket is in fact not cheap at all—it costs me 1.30 pounds for a one-way ticket and 3.20 for a day pass. I think if I am going to take the bus, I will always need to buy the day pass since I will definitely need more than one transfer to find my way around.

It made me start to miss my adventurous bus journeys in Beijing, where each bus has a stop-by-stop map and a clear and loud radio. As a public service, the bus is much more accessible in Beijing, and it's normally very cheap if you get the bus card. I used to explore the city by bus all the time as it can take me to every single corner of the city and there is no need to carry change at all.

However, everything has two sides. The bus systems in Beijing are so crowded that you cannot even breathe properly during rush hour, while here in Edinburgh you can easily find a seat anytime. Not to mention the fact that I haven’t seen one single traffic jam since I moved here, which is impossible in Beijing.

Then how about the bike? I’ve noticed that there are plenty of people who ride in Edinburgh either for commuting or fun. But to me, it seems a little geographically undesirable since it’s very hilly here. But speaking of bikes, what I really admire is the custom Scotland developed that people will donate their used bikes to charity shops when they don’t need them anymore, and these shops will refurnish and resell them at a relatively lower price. In this manner, they made bikes more affordable and fewer bikes will be wasted.

But more often than not, people walk. It’s like the most popular way of getting somewhere in Edinburgh. From Princes Street to King’s Building, there are people walking every day. And since the city is not actually big and it is indeed beautiful, walking can really be an enjoyable experience.

Personally, it will take me 15-20 minutes to walk from my flat to George Square, the main teaching area. And I reckon that it will just grant me the perfect time to clear my mind for the coming day.

And when I walk with my friends, it could be even better—we will become the modern Peripatetics in Edinburgh!

A day without energy is a scary idea in every single aspect. After all, how could we even do that in a society which is basically based on energy? We need gas to cook, we need electricity to illuminate, and we need fuel to heat, etc. I would contend that a zero-energy society is impossible; but a low-energy society should be applauded.

And that’s exactly what I was going to do today. During the day, I would try my best to use less energy and find out the alternatives.

I made a list of things I would do:

1. Go to library and read a book.As a student, reading is part of my life, but gradually it became something without any surprise—I just follow the reading list. Even though in many cases I still enjoy what I read, I do miss the serendipity I used to experience when I roamed around the library. So today I gave myself a little treat in library to enjoy the unexpected happiness that ran into me.

2. Have a DMCHow long has it been since your last DMC: deep and meaningful chat? Long enough to forget? Well, try to bring them back. It’s not that we have to be serious or anything. Personally I take DMC as a way to exchange new ideas and get support from my friends both intellectually and emotionally. Besides it’s also a good chance to defeat fast-food culture, which encourages me to slow down and, to paraphrase Socrates, have an “examined” life.

3. Shower in Darkness. I think one of the “byproducts” of No Impact Week is that we are becoming more aware. No Impact Week is about not only cutting our carbon emission but also reconsidering the way we feel, think, and live. Normally we are visual animals, which means that we sense the world by seeing. In the dark shower, everything became harder—I could’t even find my shampoo. But it’s a good start to feel instead of just seeing.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20thStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18th2011/09/19 20:00:00 GMT-7ArticleFather John Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/father-john-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Appalachian priest John Rausch has to drive 22,000 miles a year as part of his ministry. But he wants to strike a balance between the needs of the earth and those of his community.

So far this week:

I’m John Rausch, a Catholic priest with the Glenmary Society and director of the Catholic Committee of Appalachia (CCA). I’ve never blogged before and don’t know anything about Twitter or Facebook. I don’t even have a cell phone.

I am participating in the No Impact Week because this forms part of my spirituality—that which centers me, gives me life, and connects me with you and creation in the web of life.

I come with a faith perspective, and confess to you that this coming week I will drive about 700 miles doing my ministry, yet I will be mindful and aware of how much I am consuming.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

While looking at the carbon footprint of how much we drive, we need to include some grid about why we drive.

Today, I drove about 200 miles from Abingdon, Virginia to Stanton, Kentucky, where I live. Friday, I drove my Honda Civic (36 mpg) to Hazard, Kentucky (75 miles) where I carpooled with Sr. Robbie Pentecost to drive the last 125 miles in her Toyota Prius (50 mpg). Today, Sunday, we reversed the drive, so nearly half the trip meant carpooling.

Observation: While looking at the carbon footprint of how much we drive, we need to include some grid about why we drive. If your mother is seriously ill, you may need to drive 300 miles by yourself to see her. Alternately driving 100 miles for some sporting event may need a closer examination. For essential driving, we rely on community members to contribute some of their “carbon miles,” so others can bring compassion to outside situations.

This weekend was CCA’s annual meeting. Folks who attended dealt with people incarcerated, environmental problems, drug addiction, health care costs, and poverty issues. Dealing with issues in Appalachia requires me to drive 22,000 miles a year. My carbon footprint may be big, but the region is ever expansive and demanding my driving. Since this meeting is annual, and not more frequent, I see this face-to-face interaction as contributing to greater community and shared responsibility.

I don’t buy a lot. I cook for people as a ministry to those in ministry. When we think of cutting back, we sometimes overlook the gift of friendship and how it inspires us to do more with less. I’m aware of what I am consuming, but struggling this week to find a healthy balance.

Today, Monday, we look at trash. How much comes wrapped in cellophane, cardboard, and plastic! As consumers we need a knife, scissors, or quick dexterous pulls to release what the wrappings hold. Nothing in a store goes without packaging, bar codes, or produce numbers.

Recycling is like an examination of conscience for Catholics. The
evidence of extravagance must be carted off, perhaps denied, but still
carted off.

Today I purchased a few items for a dinner with friends for tomorrow. The scanners beeped with each item and recorded the price. Efficiency needs exactness, hence the need for waste—not like the farmer eye-balling the product, weighing it, and throwing in some freebee. In paying, I mention “keep the change” and we all receive justice with a spirit of neighborliness.

In living in a rural area, I must cart my trash to the dump and recycle next to it. I create one 13 gallon plastic bag of waste per week and I deposit any vegetable matter in my compost pile in my yard. When I recycle I count the beer cans and containers that passed through my kitchen in that week (or probably two-week) period. Recycling is like an examination of conscience for Catholics. The evidence of extravagance must be carted off, perhaps denied, but still carted off.

We usually define trash as that which we throw away. The electricity
used to power this computer that transmits this blog came at the cost
of trashing a mountain in Appalachia.

I look around my office filled with piles of papers and magazines. I write, therefore I must read. I hold on to past periodicals because there might be an article that could later inform my writing, but the flaw in that thinking lies with not knowing where I read a particular article or derived a relevant fact, and so I cannot find it amidst the clutter. Paper can be recycled, so this Monday pricks my conscience that I need to clear clutter and cancel those publications that no longer seem that relevant.

Today, I drove 141 miles round trip to meet with a committee person to plan an interfaith prayer service on top of a mountaintop removed area. We usually define trash as that which we throw away. The electricity used to power this computer that transmits this blog came at the cost of trashing a mountain in Appalachia. To me, trash no longer looks like cellophane, but needless computers left on all night and lights not turned off.

This is “transportation day” for our No Impact Week. Happily, today I did not crawl into my car. Frequently enough I don’t drive to town just to fetch the mail, which means about a 5-mile round trip. I get my mail from my post box when I return from one of my trips however many days later.

Today, after three days on the road and yesterday a total deluge of rain, I needed to wash my clothes. Although this house has a dryer, for the past four years I have saved 4.5 pounds of coal per load to generate the electricity to heat my dryer. I hang my clothes to dry—solar powered. My friend, Robbie, bought me a collapsible drying rack—best gift I’ve gotten in a century! On decent days I still put the dryer in the sun out back, and on cloudy days I’m prepared to drag it back in.

This No Impact Week is playing on my mind. I spent an hour today cleaning my office by throwing away two stacks of old newspapers and magazines (I think I’m one day behind in terms of “trash day”). I will recycle another day, but today I decided not to drive at all.

Today I provided hospitality. Tonight I had three guests for dinner: a priest, a Brother, and a justice worker. Usually I provide meat as the entree, but tonight we went vegetarian because of No Impact Week. I planned a linguini with pears and gorgonzola, but because I refused to drive, I substituted fettuccine, apples, and blue cheese.

My observation: Folks like coming together. Food prepared with love satisfies. Hospitality makes the Gospel concrete. Two of the three guests are staying over in my guest room and on my futon.

Hi Everyone, Today I got word that my friend Billy died. He died of cancer of the appendix, a rare cancer, but he also was a person in recovery for over 20 years. I find myself wrapped in this No Impact Week trying to cut back from physical things, and yet from my intimate circle, a friend has passed. I need to reflect about the mystery of life and death in the context of this week.

Billy had a process addiction, not one to alcohol or drugs. We, as many commentators admit, are an addictive society. I preached one time we in the U.S. are addicted to militarism, and people like popcorn jumped from the pews and left—22 complaints on that sermon alone!

Billy’s addiction was a process addiction. People who cannot control their credit cards and desires share part of that kind of addiction. We are asked to buy locally and control our desires for exotic foods, but we are addicted to our power of purchase: We got the money, so Chile should deliver the asparagus in our mid-winter.

Today we think about food and how to buy locally. For many counties in eastern Kentucky, i.e. central Appalachia, there are no farmers markets. We have obesity and diabetes, but few farmers markets. In Stanton, where I live, a dozen farmers bring their produce three days a week, but except for one friend, Roland, few plant exotic varieties of vegetables like paw-paw and Japanese eggplant. While many people in urban areas have access to markets and diversity, many in small towns deal with what farmers have traditionally grown, and the season is June to October.

My answer to buying and eating local today got replaced by eating out of the local refrigerator, i.e. left-overs. Living as a one-person household curbs one’s ability to buy fresh for the future. I try to invite folks for dinners, but I buy foods when they are on sale or marked down. I want to raise a garden, but I’m on the road a lot and the critters who own the forest appear nightly appareled in bibs with knife and fork. The struggle over local food really deals with the priority of time to plant, or seek out a farmer, or give in and do the convenient.

My friend Billy lived the 12-step program. He didn’t take the quick fix, but sought out the appropriate route of recovery. I will pray Vespers for the Dead tonight, because Billy reminded me that we can all go from the addictions of comfort and convenience to the liberation of health and spirituality.

Living in Appalachia, I know of no issue more volatile than energy. Around the coalfields, vehicles display stickers saying “Friends of Coal.” If the people living in coal communities had a friend, that person would confront the industry about the adverse health effects and ask why 60,000 children each year in the U.S. have brain damage from mercury spewed from coal stacks. They might ask about the 30,000 premature deaths from coal, the 700 deaths per year from black lung, and the respiratory sicknesses from air-borne coal particulates. Coal is a sunset industry, but the world’s demand for energy increases each year. Renewables just cannot keep up with the explosive energy demand in China and India.

I try to use natural light when I can—open the shades and work by the candle power of the great Sun-Candle. Wash gets open-air drying with winds blowing my underwear all over the place (laugh time for my friends!) I try to turn off lights and counsel friends to unplug computers overnight!

A few years ago, I preached in the coalfields that the sale of Hummers was on the decline because gas prices were increasing. I challenged the congregation to make their decisions based not on economics, but on the moral imperative for the care of creation and the common good. A couple got up and walked out—obviously, strippers (strip mine folks) who could not listen to anything that assaulted the status quo.

Second story: I rented my house in Stanton in 2001 when another priest and I established a religious community. Steve went to the electric co-op and got us hooked up and put his name on the contract. A few years later he moved out, but I continued paying the bill each month that came to our address, but under his name. Two years ago, Wendell Berry, the well-known environmentalist, John Paterson, M.D., and the Kentuckians for the Commonwealth asked me to join them in a lawsuit against the local electric co-op building a large coal-fired plant ten miles from my house.

I suddenly realized that I might not be a co-op member because Steve’s name appeared on the bill. So, a Friday afternoon I called the co-op, dropped by their offices, and signed a contract. Basically, I joined the electric co-op on Friday and sued them that next Tuesday. Eventually, we won—they canceled the coal-fired plant!

Appalachia has been described as a mineral colony for the rest of the U.S. There are few jobs because the coal industry, now highly mechanized, has determined what can and cannot happen. Coal is the only game in town, but we need to expand the town! Wind and solar would do well in these mountains, but we need the capital investment and the political will to pull this off.

Meanwhile we endure mountaintop removal (MTR) for cheap electricity at the expense of community and creation. My admonition: Turn off whatever you can!

When we think of water in eastern Kentucky, we think of mining. When companies do mountaintop removal (MTR), they expose the minerals to the rains that wash into the water table and pollute healthy streams. Low-income people need to add bottled water to their list for survival—an unnecessary commodity that comes because of corporate greed.

Just so folks know that I’m keeping up with the program, I collect the water that I run before the warm water cuts in when I’m doing dishes, and use it to water my plants. The commode mellows when it’s yellow, otherwise I flush for safety and health. Living alone allows me to monitor my usage regularly.

EPA represents the common good. Without clean water we die.

While I seriously can cut back in numerous ways in terms of water usage, I see corporate use and pollution as the main struggle for a healthy water supply. MTR pollutes streams and cracks existing wells (from blasts). If I put a jar of orange water on the table, people know that’s filled with iron, arsenic, mercury, cadmium, and selenium—bad stuff! When I take people to the pond site where we could have drawn that water, folks could look around and see five trailers ringing that pond, and each trailer loaded with middle school kids ages 7-11. I then ask—where do kids play?

Currently the EPA is being assailed by political folks because the restrictions are costing jobs. No, the EPA is creating jobs because companies refuse to act responsibly and police themselves. EPA represents the common good. Without clean water we die. Without EPA we have no clean water. I’m willing to show anyone orange streams from mine acid drain off and offer them a drink. Please don’t take me up on my offer.

Hi Everyone,Saturday is Giving Back day, so for me I got to preach about No Impact Week to the Catholic congregation in Prestonsburg, Kentucky—all 25 of the folks.

Prestonsburg is 75 miles from my house, and after the 5 p.m. Saturday Mass I drove another 125 miles to Gate City, Virginia, for a meeting on Sunday night. This actually saved an additional 125 miles of driving because Prestonsburg was en route to my next appointment.

I have his feeling that without a spirituality, that quest for less will not last.

This week I logged 550 miles of driving: a bit higher than normal, but better than a recent 5-week period of 750 miles per week! I do more conference calls than in the past, but religious services and large meetings require driving. Curiously, many of my meetings that require excessive driving deal with care of creation.

In preaching about No Impact Week I realized that some bloggers were very concrete about food or travel or trash. I tended to be more philosophical (one of my editors called by stuff “dry.”) I know that the YES! literature emphasizes that simplicity brings a greater freedom and happiness, but I have his feeling that without a spirituality, that quest for less will not last. During the anti-war days of Vietnam many of my friends burned themselves out with demonstrations and actions. Only the ones who saw the war as part of a bigger picture of violence were able to maintain a balance.

By “spirituality” I mean the vertical of life, that which speaks from the core, the “attached” to the reality beyond the self or small circle of people. Spirituality gives meaning and purpose, it integrates mystery. People like poets, mimes, artists, and composers point to it as the realm beyond the flesh and blood.

My point: Without some spiritual grounding, living a simple life will get boring and dull, perhaps even spawn a spirit of despondency and envy. A healthy spirituality brings joy and excitement, happiness to be alive, to be one with the trees and birds, to be grateful for life in general.

I’m grateful to YES! for offering me this opportunity to blog. The writing made me reflect, and I became the greatest beneficiary of the work. I look forward to my next and last blog, which I won’t be able to send unless I discover some Internet connection. In Appalachia many places lack adequate infrastructure and that remains a big hurdle for social and economic development.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 17:25:00 GMT-7ArticleBunmi and the YES Prep School Blog on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/bunmi-and-the-yes-prep-school-blog-on-no-impact-week
Bunmi left her comfort zone to join last January's No Impact Week. Now she's back for round two—and she's bringing her students with her.

I must be a glutton for punishment, cause here I am again doing No Impact Week. Only, I guess this time it’s different since I’m not so much of a skeptic. While some of the habits I developed during January’s No Impact Week have fallen by the wayside (sorry, I love my 30 minute showers… but I do turn off the faucet when I’m washing dishes or brushing my teeth!), I really valued the lessons I learned during the last No Impact Week. So much so, that this time I’m around I’m not doing it alone!

I recently started a new job teaching in Houston, Texas, and I’ve spent the last week or two trying to get the staff and some students at the YES Prep Public School’s Southeast Campus (yes, that's right, the YES school, no relation) to get involved in the No Impact Experiment.

The idea started with me just wanting to involve my World Cultures class We just completed a few lessons on human-environment interactions and I thought No Impact Week would be the perfect culmination/class project. Except… I have 162 6th grade students, and I couldn’t figure out how honestly coordinate it all. So then I thought, why not just try to involve the Southeast staff?

I’m not sure what made me think coordinating 72 people would be any easier. But easy or not, Southeast is getting on board with the No Impact Experiment. So join me as I try to navigate through this next week, figuring out a new city, a new job… and this crazy challenge.

The Student Council of the YES Prep Public School's Southeast campus in Houston.

Photo courtesy of Bunmi Ishola.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

I’m not sure what’s possessed me to do No Impact Week for the second time this year. Not that I didn’t enjoy the first time—it actually ended up being a lot better than I thought. But I recently started a new job and moved to a new city, and I’m already pretty overwhelmed with just trying to navigate that. Why add a week of carbon cleansing?

But the fact that I started a new job and moved to a new city actually presented the perfect reason to do No Impact Week again. First of all, since I’m technically starting fresh, I can use this week to set up my new home and life in ways that are less impactful on the environment. And secondly, there was the potential that I could influence not just my own choices, but those of people I work with, too.

A new job in a new city gave Bunmi the chance to turn over a new leaf.

Photo courtesy of Bunmi Ishola.

I am a 6th grade teacher at YES Prep Southeast in Houston, Texas. This year, our theme/motto/mantra—whatever you want to call it—is, “All In”: the idea that it takes each of us pulling our weight and giving our all to make a difference in the lives of our students. We’re going all in with grading systems, discipline, parent contact… even matching wardrobes! So, I figured, why not go “all in” on No Impact Week?

At first the plan was really just supposed to be for my 6th graders. But planning how to track and record 162 kids doing a carbon cleanse proved to be a bit impossible. Plus, most of our kids come from low-income households, and some have parents who don’t speak any English—so communicating the purpose of the week and making sure my kids would get the support they needed to be successful just didn’t seem possible. I decided to go after the staff instead. If we, the teachers, did No Impact Week, certainly our kids would notice the subtle changes and ask questions, right?

I’d try to convince them that the experiment is what they make of it.
It’s all about reflecting on the choices we make and seeing if we can
make better ones.

Coordinating 75 teachers wasn’t any easier. Every time I tried talking to anyone about it, I’d get responses like these:

“Well, I don’t know about turning off my AC for a week…”

“There’s no way I’m going without toilet paper!”

“Umm… I’m not sure if I can be that green.”

They sounded just like me in January! In fact, at times they actually sounded worse. I wanted to shake them and say, “Do I look like Kermit the Frog? I’m not all that green myself!”

But instead, I’d try to convince them that the experiment is what they make of it. It’s all about reflecting on the choices we make and seeing if we can make better ones. Adapting to our environment versus modifying it.

Well … I still didn’t get the “all in” response I was hoping for. In fact, only seven people are signed up for the YES Prep SE group. But that’s better than just me—so I’ll take the seven as a triumph. Plus, not only are the seven people signed up super excited about the adventure, but one is involving the recycling club, and another is our Student Council advisor. Both are getting the kids they work with involved in No Impact Week.

Overall, not consuming things should be easy. Now that I have a roommate, we actually have too much stuff and will be purging. Although, we currently don’t have a trash can (I guess that will help with the No Trash, huh?) and I do need to buy some stuff for my class. But those can probably hold off for a week. Also, one perk to being unemployed for a few months—I’ve already gotten into the habit of only buying what I truly need. When you don’t have money to spend, you’re forced to become a lot more thoughtful about the purchases you make. We’ll see how the rest of this week pans out…

Houston, I think, might be worse than Dallas in terms of public transportation. There's no way I can take a train or bus to work. And I live way too far to walk or bike (plus, I don't even own a bike yet).

My plan was to carpool, and I spoke to a couple of people a few weeks before about possibly arranging that. If only it were that simple.

As teachers, our hours aren't the traditional 8-5. While school might start at 8 am and end at 4:30pm., there's usually a lot we can be doing before and after those hours, and so we do. And every teacher has their own plans, schedules, and things. While trying to coordinate some sort of carpool, I realized just how conflicting our schedules can be.

One person gets to school at 6 a.m. each morning. I'm generally still forcing myself to get out of bed around then.

Another doesn't really roll into school until 7:45. While that has been me the past couple of days, I do like to be there earlier to just make sure everything is set for the day.

I have tutorials and need to stay till 6pm, or I still have tons of copies that need to be made and so I'm often here until 8.

Basically, things can always get in the way, and make carpooling very inconvenient. My initial carpool arrangement for today ended up having some grading to do and so didn't want to promise me a ride just in case the morning got too hectic/crazy. The plan is for us to try again tomorrow. We'll see how that goes.

I felt pretty guilty about driving myself to school today. Especially since this weekend I'll also be driving to Dallas (sorry, you couldn't pay me to take the Greyhound or Amtrack—a bus trip from Missouri to Oklahoma, and the train ride from St. Louis to Dallas has scarred me for life). So not only will I be making quite an impact on the environment, but I'll also be missing the Give Back Day.

Sometimes I do wish I lived somewhere like New York, or D.C., or even in Chicago again, so that making less impactful transportation choices would be easier. But this is Texas, large and spread out. Not having a car is close to impossible, and often times it's difficult to catch a bus, walk, or bike to the places you need to go. I wish the cities would invest in expanding public transportation. If we had it, we'd use it. Or at least, I would. Spending $50 to fill up my tank every week or so is not how I want to spend my money.

Well, we'll see how carpooling goes. Maybe if it works out really well this week, my co-worker and I can do it regularly once or twice a week or something.

Lunch from Rev Foods. It might be healthy, and would fit all the No Impact food rules, but it definitely creates trash.

Photo by Bunmi Ishola.

I've been eating terribly lately. In fact, besides the free meal I mooch off of the Rev Food ladies during 7th period, I probably don't eat another well-balanced meal during the day.

Part of this has to do with how busy I've been. While I love the new job, it is demanding and I'm still getting the hang of balancing lesson planning, grading, and building strong student and parent relationships—not to mention my personal life! I rarely, if ever, eat breakfast. Lunch is at school. And dinner—yeah, I'll admit to going through the drive-thru or ordering a pizza a few times.

During lunch I notice that most of our kids will bring
Ramen noodle bowls,or some other microwavable meal. You make do with what's cheap, yet filling, when
you're on a tight budget.

When No Impact Week started, I had lofty dreams of going shopping with my roommate and us throwing down in the kitchen making our first meal together this Wednesday. Except, I didn't get home from school until nearly 7 p.m., and she and her boyfriend were trying to get her unpacked and settled (she hadn.t been in the apartment for the last three weeks).

In the end, he treated us to Panda Express for dinner. A part of me was hesitant, since we were getting it to go and it would therefore create some level of trash. Plus, while they claim "fresh veggies daily," I'm not sure how local or non-processed the rest of the food was.

But let's face it. I was hungry.

Rev Food has served enchiladas that day, which means every kid wanted to eat and there were no leftovers. I needed some food.

I tried to compromise by getting just the bowl versus the food meal. The bowl comes in a small plastic bowl versus the Styrofoam take-out container. And it could be washed and reused if necessary. I also didn't get a drink. If we were getting it to go, I could always just pour myself a glass of water or juice at home.

The kids went through their trash and divided up what they used for 10
minutes or more from what they used for 10 minutes or less. They found
that most things they used for 10 minutes or less.

I'm still consumed with guilt, but my choices were limited. My fridge has juice, some peaches and plums (which I did buy from a local farm!) and peanut butter (which, no matter how processed it might be, I'm obsessed with!). Not a lot of options when it comes to a meal.

I am hoping to change that soon, to get into a nice rhythm when it comes to cooking. I still need to figure out a good place to buy local foods in Houston now that the Newflower Farmers Market isn't practically in my backyard like in Dallas.

I must say that I think the food day is the hardest. I honestly don't have a lot of time since I spend 10-12 hours at school each day, and then lately my weekends have been full of weddings, bridal showers, training, or some major commitment that sucks my time. Also, healthy food is expensive.

This is something Amy and I talked about when we were figuring out how to involve our kids in No Impact Week. During lunch I notice that most of our kids will bring leftovers, or Ramen noodle bowls, or some other microwavable meal. And I remember eating those types of meals religiously back in the day, when I was a broke college student. You make do with what's cheap, yet filling, when you're on a tight budget. Amy just chose to skip talking about food with the StuCo kids:

"The kids went through their trash and divided up what they used for 10 minutes or more from what they used for 10 minutes or less. They found that most things they used for 10 minutes or less.

"This, of course led to our conversation about how much we waste! I challenged the students to try not to make any trash the next day (Tuesday). They said they could not do it but then we looked at our trash from Sunday, we realized it was doable if we just reused things and thought more about it!

"One of my students even brought a Tupperware container for lunch so she could reuse it instead of buying a paper container! On Tuesday, we focused on consumption because I did not see them Sunday and because living in Houston with the city so spread out and many of them riding the bus anyway, I decided to skip the transportation day. After watching "The Story of Stuff" video, my students were so surprised at how much we buy!

"We've decided that if nothing else, this week has been valuable in that it's been an education for our students (and ourselves!). And as we teach our kids, education is the beginning for all great things."

Well, not literally. But I didn't have the lights on my classroom all of today. And I plan to do the same tomorrow. Instead, I cracked open the blinds and let the natural light illuminate the kids' work (and hopefully their minds). That's probably been one of the more fun parts of this week—getting to share it with my kids in small doses.

Bunmi tried hiding her trash can to discourage the kids from creating trash. Instead trash ends up in her recycling bin.

Photo by Bunmi Ishola.

The trash can experiment goes strong. It is still hidden under my desk, and even the cleaning ladies have caught on and find it amusing. I do have kids who will blow their nose or begin sharpening their pencils and then get exasperated by my lack of a trash can. But they take it in stride, and the rest of the class always finds it a bit funny.

I've also been having them take notes in their class journals a bit more. Normally, I have 162 pages printed out of whatever material we're going to use. But now, for all the practice and homework, it's been done in their journals. That cut back on probably 324 pages a day. I even had some students try to debate with me about how if I let them use pens instead of pencils (the required writing utensil in Ms. Ishola's class), it would be less impactful.

We'd be saving tress, Miss!

They were unsuccessful, as I pointed out that ink also comes from plants, plus the plastic that's used in pen cases comes from oil—a non-renewable resource (which we just learned about) and at least treas are renewable (albeit not inexhaustible).

Our high school principal, Maureen, agreed with me: This week
is hard.

The little conversations I've been having about No Impact Week with some of the staff has been just as entertaining. Like when I decided to throw some trash I had created (those dang Rev Food meals!) in the classroom across the hall.

"Oh, so as long as it's not in your trash it doesn't count?" was the jab I got from Brian...which is what it may have seemed like, but I explained that since I had my trash can under my desk, the kids were no longer creating trash and I noticed from previous days that if I have even one piece of trash in my trash can, the entire bag is taken out to be disposed of. That's a waste of bags. So I figured if I had to make trash, I should seek out the trash cans that were already pretty full to cut back on that wastage. May seem like a cop-out on the whole "no trash" thing, but since I already feel that having absolutely no trash is impossible, I figured reducing the amount of waste was better than nothing.

Our high school principal, Maureen, agreed with me when I shared the story. She's one of the people participating in No Impact Week with me and we are both on the same page about one really big thing: This week is hard. She's been reusing the same coffee cup for the week, trying to cut back on her waste. But with things like transportation and food and even the consumption bit is just a really challenging thing. She said she's constantly catching herself and having to make adjustments.

I still wasn't able to get my carpool off the ground. This time, she forgot. And Friday, I can't as I'm leaving for Dallas once school gets out. I failed on Food Day yesterday. Energy, I'm pretty good at. I am pretty obsessive about lights not being on when they aren't needed. And today I was even more conscious in that if I was in the bathroom, my room lights were off. If I went back to my room, the bathroom lights went off. I tried to keep lights off in rooms I wasn't using at all times, even if it was only for a few minutes.

My roommate is overjoyed by this fact. Her response: Hey, it sounds like it'll save us some money! And my kids? They seem to like the dark classroom. So maybe we'll do the no lights thing more—perhaps not every day, but at least once a week.

I do a pretty good job of making sure the water isn't running aimlessly, except when I'm taking a shower. I do like the water to get pretty hot, and I tend to scrub myself until I feel no grime. And there is no way I'm taking a bath.

I had a conversation with one of my co-workers about No Impact Week during lunch. Since it was Friday, the week was basically over as far as school was concerned, so we were doing a casual recap of the week. Jess decided not to do No Impact Week. Not because she didn't care, but simply because she felt she already was doing all that she could do without going to the extreme. And for her No Impact Week would mean having to go the extreme. "I recycle, I use a reusable water bottle—but am I going to collect rainwater to bathe in or wash dishes? No. Am I going to make compost in my apartment? No."

I had spent a month in Nigeria at the beginning of the summer where I didn't have electricity each day, and some days I had just a bucket of water to take a bath in. I could do it with no complaints because that's just life in Nigeria. But is it ideal? Definitely not. And maybe it's being a spoiled American, but Jess and I kind of felt that ultimately having limited water is considered a bit of a subservient situation. And even people in those situations know that it's not ideal. They just have no other choice.

But that doesn't mean we don't care about the environment. The cool thing about No Impact Week is that it forced us to think about how much we care, and if there was room for improvement. For myself, there definitely is. For Jess, she felt she's already doing a great job. But there was a moment of self-reflection for each of us. And I think that's the main point of all of this.

The StuCo kids all wrote one thing they learned from participating in the No Impact Experiment. I can't wait to go through what they wrote and share it with y'all tomorrow!

When I decided to get the school involved with No Impact Week, I had a beautiful vision of what today would look like. Either doing service around the school, or in the community, it would truly be ALL IN with teachers, students and parents working side by side, doing community service.

This vision died when I looked at my calendar and realized that I had a bridal shower in Dallas to attend. Also, leading up to this week—and even getting through this week—work has taken its toll on me. There's been a lot of work to get done and I barely had time to write this blog much less plan a service project.

But as a school, I'd say we do pretty well on giving back. Working at YES is all about giving back. In fact, YES stands for Youth Engaged in Service. And it started with a few people doing an after-school program from low-income kids. Now it's grown to 10 schools that serve the same demographic. The teachers and staff give their all on a daily basis to ensure that every student that comes through our doors can be prepared for college and prepared to have a better future. Our students are also required to do a certain number of community service hours each year. For the 6th graders, we actually spend a school day and go on a service trip to the Food Bank once every six weeks. Our first one was a few weeks ago, and it was awesome to see how excited the kids got about filling up bags of beans. We filled almost 4,500 bags—a number the kids are proud of and are hoping to beat the next time we go. If I was in Houston and able to plan a service project, I'm pretty positive there would have been lots of people eager to jump on board.

But being in Dallas doesn't mean I have to miss out on giving back altogether. Since tomorrow is the last Sunday of the month, my old church is doing its Serve Sunday. Serve Sunday was one of the reasons I loved my church in Dallas: Once a month, we'd spend the two hours we'd normally be in church doing something in the community. We've thrown a fall festival, cleaned out and decorated a new apartment for a family that lost theirs in a fire, and done landscaping and other maintenance and beautification projects around the school the church meets in.

I can't wait to be a part of it tomorrow. Since I can't really do the whole Eco-Sabbath (gotta drive back to Houston and then plan lessons, grade, and do other non-restful things), I at least get to still end my No Impact Week on a pretty good note!

No Impact Week is OVER! And I have to admit, I'm glad. It was actually a pretty stressful week. I felt bad about everything when I couldn't accomplish a challenge fully. And while I do know I can make improvements, not having the pressure of being 100 percent non-impactful should take away the stress of trying to change my habits.

It was a good week though—I had a lot of really interesting conversations with co-workers and friends surrounding No Impact. And hopefully everyone at YES Prep Southeast got stretched a little in their thinking when it comes to the environment.

I thought a great way to wrap up this blog was to share what the Student Council Kids felt they learned. After all, I did decide to do this for the kids.

"In living in this broken system, we see no change due to the capitalist hogs and the brain-washed individuals of our community. One by one we will be able to change our world for the better." -Elsih E., 17, 12th grader

"Our excessive consumption is self-harming. We are trashing the earth (or home) and also paying unnecessarily. Why waste so much money on unnecessary items?" -Alexia S., 17, 12th grader

"During No Impact Week, I learned that as Americans we consume so much, as well as throw away stuff, and it is just creating more pollution. I learned where all our trash ends up; most of it's not being re-used but burned and buried." -Symone R., 16, 11th grader

"I learned that we should stop using water bottles because it pollutes our earth, we should just use tap water." -Valerie M., 16, 11th grader

"I learned that I consume more trash than I thought. Also, that it's better to eat local grown food and that I may use a lot of water than the average person." -Juan C., 17, 12th grader

"What I learned is that all the stud that we have are created from natural resources and when we're through with them they end up in the trash after using them less than 6 weeks." -Nancy T., 16, 11th grader

"I learned that I am pretty average when it comes to using water, however I can do better by using less home products." -Hector C., 16, 11th grader

"I learned that tap water is cleaner than bottle water and it bottle water costs over $2000 more." -Ruben D., 16, 11th grader

"Tap water can be cleaner than bottled water and bottled water com[anise tend to advertise that tap water is harmful." -Alfredo Z., 17, 12th grader.

"In No Impact Week, I learned deeply about how a single person can affect the Earth. One of the biggest things that I learned is the necessity that humans need to make trash. I learned from this that humans are superficial and only care about themselves. I finally learned to make sure to attempt to prevent my trash even if I can't delete trash completely." -Jorge P., 14, 9th grader

"Reducing your trash everyday can make a change. We trash too much. Humans only consume things, but hardly every give back to the environment. Food: It takes a lot of energy and preservatives to ship food from far away. It is bad for your health and the environment. We waste a lot of energy by not unplugging appliances." -Oscar P., 14, 9th grader.

"This week I learned to be more conservative when it comes to throwing away things that can be reused." -Ramon A., 18, 12th grader.

"I learned that I produce a lot of trash in one day and in the United States we produce too much." -Adolio R., 17, 12th grader

"One thing I learned during No Impact Week was that it doesn't take much to make an impact. During this week, I tried to take faster showers to use less water, and I was still clean. It doesn't really take much to have an impact on the environment." -Suzette M., 15, 10th grader

Can I just say, from the mouths of babes. If I did nothing else right this week, I am proud that I was able to share this experience with others and create an impact by helping to educate others, especially some of the future generation. We'll see how next No Impact Week goes.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 15:40:00 GMT-7ArticleDenisse Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/denisse-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Denisse, a Nicaraguan researcher in Honduras, wants to see how far No Impact Week principles can go in the Global South.

So far this week:

I am a 24-year-old research assistant for Zamorano University in Central America. Born in Nicaragua, I have lived in Honduras since 2005. I'm currently studying the economies and vulnerabilities of coastal communities. I'm intrigued by life, and trying to survive the attempt of figuring it out.

I joined the No Impact Week Experiment because I feel the urge to act. I’ve been fascinated by human nature and how we relate to our planet, but most of it has been reflection.

Lately I got more actively involved in the topic by participating in the Environment Plenary at One Young World Summit 2011. I’ve been highly influenced by YES! Magazine’s ideas on the possibilities of the New Economy, so this is a perfect time to officially join this enthusiastic community. I am very intrigued to see how the changes will apply to the context of a developing country since many things are different already. Can´t wait to start!

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

Hello everybody, I am very happy and honored to join you! First I need to provide some background about our teams in Honduras.

I started with the idea to sign up for No Impact Week alone since I read about it in YES! Magazine. But I invited my Honduran family and, as eco-conscious as they already are, they liked it very much and immediately jumped in!

From left to right: No Impact Week participants Naffie, Oliver, Mario, Denisse, Namig, and Alejandro.

Photo courtesy of Denisse McLean.

We have Namig (we are housemates), Oliver (her son / my baby brother), Alejandra (our friend, coworker and neighbor) and my mom (she is joining from Nicaragua). We are the Sanders-Herrera Family team. On Saturday we screened the No Impact Man movie and presented the No Impact Week challenge to our sophomore students. Five more friends joined us: Naffie, Mario, Monica, Alejandro, and Diana. They formed the Zamorano University team. We will be working as one team, but we are different. I’ll tell you why.

We live at Zamorano. It is an agricultural international university, with students and staff from various countries from Latin America. As so, our team members come from Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Bolivia, Venezuela, and the Netherlands.

Mario even skipped lunch because he missed the dining hall schedule and
was not willing to produce trash by buying at the food stand. Namig took
a preparation tour to the supermarket to anticipate which of the
products we usually eat are local or not.

The family team lives off-campus, about 2 km away.

The University team lives on-campus. It’s a boarding school (this is not common in Latin America, by the way). We are located at the Yeguare Valley, a rural area 30km from Tegucigalpa. As you will see through the week, this will have many implications on how we conduct the experiment.

Today’s challenge on consumption was fairly easy for us. Why? Because we already live isolated! (This is the first time it looks like an advantage.) We go to Tegucigalpa once a week to do the shopping. I basically shop for food or things like toothpaste. Namig buys many more things for the family, same with my mom in Nicaragua. But they did not have a big issue staying away from consumption for a week because we can survive with what we already have.

The kids (the students) can only go off-campus during the weekend and were pretty much OK with not buying anything new (great thing about being on budget). Mostly we do not have that much of a shopping addiction—or shopping opportunities for that matter—so we did great today.

In addition, many of us are so excited about this project that we already started to do some of the extra challenges! For instance, some of the kids have already left the meat for this week. (And some others struggled to do so, but could not say no to the only-once-a-week-available homemade food. Fair enough.) Mario even skipped lunch because he missed the dining hall schedule and was not willing to produce trash by buying at the food stand. Namig took a preparation tour to the supermarket to anticipate which of the products we usually eat are local or not. And at home we are getting the candles ready for tomorrow night.

What I am not proud of today is my trash bag. OK, it’s not even a bag! It’s a trash registry. I spent the day out, and I had to eat out of course and I was not ready. So I have: foil paper, a carton cup, an iced tea bottle, a yogurt container, a polystyrene plate, a plastic coffee cup, a straw, and about five napkins. Everything used for slightly more than 10 minutes!

What a true mess.

And I saw this TV program at NatGeo where they show the urban divers at Mexico City going into the sewage full of trash to clean the pipes, which makes me feel even worse. Moral of the story: get ready! Because the simplest adjustments like carrying food clothes and a cup could have saved such unnecessary harm. I’m taking note for tomorrow.

Luckily the day ended up with some improvements. We met with part of the team at the café on campus to review the day. By then, we were all with our travel mugs.

The overall outcome of today’s challenge was 9 out of 10—yet not as easy for us as yesterday’s challenge. We had to think twice on many occasions. For instance, I was not that aware of the tiny bits of plastic I discard during my morning routine, which I happily skipped today. But we unavoidably ended up with the plastic seal of our natural yogurt container. And midmorning stress-related unexpected hunger left Namig and me with a cookie package (local bananas were a car ride away). Talk about trade-offs!

I felt somewhat overwhelmed. How is it possible that this idea, which makes perfect sense to us, makes no sense for others?

The team on-campus on the other hand did great!: Zero trash by saying no to snacks and fast food, even when they were offered it. Actually, they are very much of an inspiration to me. At home we’ve been fairly eco-conscious for some time, and some more since we moved to the house. The Zamorano team were inspired from scratch by the movie and they dealt with skepticism from colleagues during the day. Yet they are always so enthusiastic about the challenges and take things as far as they can!

We had two things to reflect on Day 2: First were our product choices. We have no farmers market culture around here, which is somehow ironic because rural is still the rule in Central America. We do have traditional markets selling fruits and vegetables, but it isn’t usually the producers who sell there but the retailers. Most producers lack the means and infrastructure to take the produce out of the field by themselves.

Wouldn’t it be great to have more environmentally friendly products
made in Central America? This could represent an enormous opportunity
for our local industries.

In addition, our tropical weather makes it necessary or at least preferable to immediately process perishable products like dairies and meats. Agro-industry, food processing, packaging, and the whole value-added philosophy is the tendency. As a result, even when most of our food is local, it is generally packed. Not to mention other non-food items.

Eco-labels are relatively new as local trends, mainly in Costa Rica or for export goods such as coffee. Wouldn’t it be great to have more environmentally friendly products made in Central America? This could represent an enormous opportunity for our local industries.

The second issue was our solid waste management program. While there has been an on-campus classification system with separated bins for "paper and carton," "glass and aluminum," "organic" and "other" for more than five years (a local advantage we are very proud of), classification rates have been consistently declining and essentially everything is now mixed up. This made us think about what will happen to our behavior once we finish the challenge. As in this case, just putting our trash in the right bin will not be enough. We will be working this week to find an answer for this question.

This made us think about what will happen to our behavior once we
finish the challenge. Just putting our trash in the
right bin will not be enough. We will be working this week to find an
answer for this question.

We also met for feedback and ended up brainstorming about what we can do at the Giving Back day. We think that in order to make an impact, we have to share the idea about what this project is about.

I have to admit that at some point, while looking at the big picture, I felt somewhat overwhelmed. How is it possible that this idea, which makes perfect sense to us, makes no sense for others?

But as I reviewed the outcomes of the day—not only in terms of the trash produced but in terms of feelings—I remembered why I’m doing this: I’m grateful because today we did not cause unnecessary harm to the planet or to others. Because the extra time we took to reflect on the things we really needed made it easier for us to actually identify them. Because we had the chance to know each other better as persons and as teams.

Then I recall the quote that impacted me the most from the movie: “The most radical political act there is, is to be an optimist”. And I cheer up. Ready for tomorrow!

Trying out a day without using fossil fuels showed our team in Honduras how much we need a better, broader transit system.

Photo courtesy of Denisse McLean.

Transportation at Zamorano is fairly easy, nice, and green. There are bike lanes and bike parking all around the campus and most places are a ride away. Underground tunnels cross the Panamerican Highway and connect one side of the campus to the other to make it safe for pedestrians, bikers, and electric utility vehicles to cross. Regular cars are required to circulate at 20 km/h. Students take the most advantage of this. Unfortunately, most of the staff, including me, does not take advantage of these facilities, driving cars everywhere.

To go to Tegucigalpa there are two options: take a bus or a car. However, the bus system is not that fun to use. Well, it's fun if you are looking for an interesting local experience but not fun if you are running late for work. The stop is hardly recognizable, unless you know it’s there. The schedule isn’t exactly reliable. No buses depart directly from here.

We had to take our car to campus because the Panamerican Highway is
full of freight trucks running at high speeds which could easily throw
little 6 year-old Oliver or naturally unbalanced me out of the way.

You need some practice before getting familiar with the time ranges. A time range goes like this: “Bus passes between 7am and 7:20, sometimes at 7:30 or more.” And the discarded U.S. school bus units are usually crowded. Because of this, when most people are presented with the option, we take the car. Getting around the city is just about the same story.

I believe this has a significant effect on people. By not meeting regularly—on the same buses or in the same public spaces—we interact less. And for that, we care less about others.

As you can guess now from this review, the Zamorano team had no problem undertaking today’s challenge. They already bike or walk all the time while on campus.

At home it was a bit harder. We had to take our car to campus because the Panamerican Highway is full of freight trucks running at high speeds which could easily throw little 6 year-old Oliver or naturally unbalanced me out of the way. At least we got to carpool with friends.

I knew our system had still a way to go, but after looking at places
like Amsterdam or Zurich I realize really how far behind we are.

Once on campus, we were able to take the bikes and ride around. It was fun, relaxing, guilt-free, good for our joints. But we need to get better at handling the load. Either we reduce the things we carry or we find a way to adapt the bikes to fit our needs. We will have to update this post to see how we do during the weekend, when facing the city.

Transportation in the developing world: I knew our system had still a way to go, but after looking at places like Amsterdam or Zurich I realize really how far behind we are. No, actually, I realize the endless possibilities that a safe, reliable, and comfortable transportation system represents for a city and its residents. How vibrant communities become both for locals and foreigners with this single optimization.

I trust we’ll get better at this. We have plenty of opportunities to advance and models to build upon. Our whole society could greatly benefit from this. Meanwhile, I’ll improve my skills as a bus rider and carpooling coordinator.

The campus team opts for vegetarian food in the cafeteria, compared to the standard choice of meat.

Photo courtesy of Denisse McLean.

The greatest thing about changing what you eat is that, because food is such an essential part of your life, it represents not just an improvement but a statement.

The food challenge for our teams has been one of the hardest. But the results have been meaningful. The team on campus had the willingness to give up meat from Day 1 or 2. Every day, they have a single-food menu at the dining hall. Changing to self-prepared local food would imply buying packed ingredients at the supermarket and wasting their food ration at the hall. So their contribution is focused on less impact by choosing vegetarian.

We said goodbye to cereal and hello to granola; goodbye to pears and hello to bananas, papayas, and watermelons.

This hasn’t been easy. The menus are good but they are designed to have meat as the main course and side dishes do not compensate for the protein loss. And by tradition, we have a taste for meat. However, guys have been brilliant at this, doing with plain salads, rice, potatoes, and soups for a week.

To better understand where their food comes from, they will be talking with managers and cooks from the dining hall researching which ingredients are local, how much trash is generated, and how waste is being managed. We believe it is our responsibility to be aware of this, as most times it is within our freedom to handle it.

We are not only the consumers but the future food producers, processors,
packagers, distributors, and traders. What will our role be?

At home it is easier because we cook for ourselves. Mom already shops at the traditional market in Nicaragua. I became vegetarian about five months ago and have received a lot of support from the family in Honduras. This week the menu has been vegetarian for everybody and the emphasis is on local. We said goodbye to cereal and hello to granola; goodbye to pears and hello to bananas, papayas, and watermelons. Luckily enough, most of the food here comes from Central America, the area we have chosen to define as “local.”

But the issue has been the packaging. At the supermarket it is something that follows you around, even for hardly necessary items such as packed local peppers, beans, corn, and tangerines.

For our teams in particular, this challenge represents an important reflection. We come from an agricultural university. We are not only the consumers but the future food producers, processors, packagers, distributors, and traders. What will our role be?

Profit, yes, it is compulsory. But how will we influence the life of the people and the spaces our products reach, beyond profit? We need to ask these questions because even if we do not, we will have an impact.

I think there are few things that represent our stand in so many political issues as much as food does. Our choices both in production and consumption represent who and what we support: which productive systems; which ways to manage our natural resources, our land, our water, and our energy; in which way our people will grow. And we have options. We exercise this vote daily and we can change it—make it better—as soon as we want.

Frankly, there is one thing I like a bit less about the energy and water challenges: I feel like I am less in control. In our countries, we cannot choose where our energy comes from. In the case of Honduras, energy comes from hydropower which is at least a renewable source, although sometimes criticized because of the loss of ecosystems, lands, and settlements associated with it.

It’s as if in these challenges the lines between our true needs, our
preferences, comfort and luxury become even more diffuse. The
cost-benefit analysis becomes more complex. And the final picks become
more personal.

Other green sources like solar panels are not widely subsidized. This makes them relatively expensive as an alternative to the regular source (although they do make an attractive option in areas where there is no electricity). So if we want to reduce our energy impact, the choice for now is to cut back our consumption. And since easy and abundant electricity and water facilities have become so deeply embedded in our modern lifestyles, it means getting out of our comfort zone.

While I can feel certainly good about not making trash for example, as trash is clearly an unnecessary harm, I am more in a debate when I have to choose whether to use the warm water or not because I strongly dislike cold water. It’s as if in these challenges the lines between our true needs, our preferences, comfort and luxury become even more diffuse. The cost-benefit analysis becomes more complex. And the final picks become more personal.

They are building habits. Yesterday, Naffie’s roommate went back to the room before leaving to classes because she remembered she had left the fan on.

In our teams as well, the strategies have been diverse. The campus team has worked in their context. While they can’t control how energy is being used in common areas like classrooms and dining halls, they have reduced standby power consumption by unplugging cell phone and computer chargers that used to stay plugged in all week long. They have also reduced their reliance on fans, microwave, lighting, and their time online. They have unplugged some common-use appliances like washers, water dispensers, and hall lights—not to the pleasant surprise of their roommates. But they are building habits. Yesterday, Naffie’s roommate went back to the room before leaving to classes because she remembered she had left the fan on.

At home, Namig decided to go for cold showers and no appliances, a bet I have not been able to match. After a deep and honest review I chose my keepers to be warm water and hair straightener (for bangs), which I would minimize as much as possible but would not completely quit. While I am aware I’m not being fair with the whole idea of the No Impact Week, I don´t want to make a hell out this. I want to adopt practices I can keep on with once the week is over. Am I being too weak?

On the great side, we went without light bulbs last night, lighting our house completely with candles which was very nice, even when I was not able to update the blog on time. The house looked great (although the pictures look way darker), we did some fun cooking for the No Impact Dinner we are planning for tomorrow. We rarely watch TV but I am usually hooked up on the computer until late, and as this wasn´t the case yesterday, Namig and I had time to talk. Maybe we will keep a weekly candle night from now on.

Once I think about it, it wasn´t so bad, there are many things that are within our hands. Let’s see how the water challenge goes.

Being on No Impact Week, we’ve become much more aware of how we use our resources and we’ve reframed the way we think about what it is to waste. Clearly one of the greatest advantages of our times, which we tend to take for granted, is to have running water in our taps. But this privilege can give us a false sense of abundance. While water might in fact be abundant in the places we are living, it is unfortunately not a service that everybody can enjoy.

Just 30 km from here, in Tegucigalpa, entire neighborhoods experience chronic water shortages, having water available only during a couple of hours a day. We own our fellows in scarcity the responsibility to use water properly.

It is hard for us to eliminate most of our water uses which are pretty basic already, but we have made them a lot more efficient. We have cut back the time of our showers to about three minutes of running water, either by being extremely fast or by picking water on a bucket to shower patiently but without wasting. We have done the same when brushing our teeth using a glass. I have introduced some sand-filled bottles in our toilet tank to reduce the water volume it takes to flush. And Namig has lowered the flow of most of our water pipes.

One of the largest savings has been to become more efficient at dishwashing. We do not have a double sink to soak dishes but we’ve used less water by removing everything mechanically and using water just for rinsing. Now we are amazed by how much water was used every time we washed dishes the regular way.

Another great highlight from yesterday was that we organized a No Impact dinner with the teams. All the food was local, vegetarian, and cooked and served with as little electricity, water, and resulting trash as possible. Choosing a vegetarian diet for the week has also contributed significantly to reducing our water footprint. However, it has required an enormous amount of willpower for the team on campus. We decided to prepare a true vegetarian meal for them so they can be sure that choosing vegetarian does not have to be a sacrifice but that it can be certainly delicious.

The menu included a vegetable, white sauce and cheese pie, curried beans, local salad with yogurt dressing (no olives, no mushrooms), homemade whole grain bread, local cheesecake and watermelon juice (ultra local, as they are cultivated in our university fields), candles, reusable plates, and no napkins.

Everything was amazing, although the menu turned out to be a bit veggie-full for the audience. But they liked the experience and were happy to leave full for the first time in the week.

And the cheesecake that was a hit. It was worth the complication for Namig to figure out how to make a cheesecake using ricotta (from a reusable container), sugar, eggs and no condensed milk at all.

The fun thing about the meeting was that we talked about the experiment—with our usual updates and anecdotes, but we ended up talking about just any other thing that came to mind. At one point we said “You really get to talk about anything when there is no light, right?”

And my mom arrived from Nicaragua to join us for the weekend. We had a good time.

You see, I'm very grateful for our No Impact Team. They’ve really known how to make a fun and interesting experience from this.

Our Giving Back day has been postponed. Weekends in our University are rather hectic. Students are allowed to go out and they use this opportunity to visit the city, buy what they need, party, and clear their minds. At home, we would usually go to Tegucigalpa to visit the supermarket and all the other stores for the things we want and the things we need (which now we know are different).

As so, some of the guys from the campus team had already planned activities in town with their colleagues. And for those of us staying here, we did not want either to burn fossil fuels or to generate trash by consuming things. We realized too late that the idea to bike from the campus to our house, challenging the freight trucks to celebrate Moving Planet Day needed more time to organize. Student bicycles are not allowed to leave the campus without the corresponding permits. So we decided to hold an Eco-Sabbath weekend starting today, sharing family time and eating leftovers from yesterday’s dinner.

But that was not the main reason to postpone the Giving Back day. Being a mixed team including faculty members, students, and family, it would be hard to arrange our schedules to go somewhere else to volunteer. Plus, there is a lot of work to do right on campus and it makes more sense to start with our own community. The project we came up with was to work with the community kids.

There is an elementary school on campus were most kids from the faculty and staff go. Both the teachers and the students are very proactive and we figured out it would be the perfect place to get more people enthusiastic about this No Impact philosophy! And by gaining kids attention we can extend the message to their families.

Our idea is to hold a consumption awareness session. We would visit the 5th- and 6th-grade kids on the first day to tell them about our experience in the No Impact Week day by day, with lots of visual resources, and to orient them on how to collect their trash for one day. Two days after, we would visit them again to analyze their trash bags by separating items according to the time used and by classifying them as dispensable or indispensable. Later we would discuss measures on how to reduce our footprints.

The school principal immediately supported the idea. But we were only able to schedule the sessions two weeks for now. Anyway, we really love the idea and we are very excited about it! (even if it’s not on the right day.)

And as for a giving back treat, my mom is embroidering some beautiful cloth napkins for each of our team members. Paper napkins no more! A No Impact permanent practice we are eager to adopt.

I’m very excited to write this post! I’m also somewhat sad that the experiment is over. I think I’m going to miss it. It has been a really positive experience to participate in the No Impact Experiment.

While on our Eco-Sabbath, we are still having some delicious leftovers from Friday which seem to taste even better. My mom and Namig are working on the cloth napkins. We will have some friends for vegetarian pizza in a while. And, realizing how hard it is to stay away from the computer even for one day, I want use this time to reflect on the highlights of the week. What have been the hardest, easiest, the keepers, and the going-backers for our teams?

To start with, I have to mention how grateful I am to have had such an amazing team. The No Impact Week can certainly be a great experience for anyone, whether with company or on your own. However, not only did our team members make it easier for us to make the experiment work in an environment for which the No Impact philosophy is brand new, but each of the them was so inspiring in their own way as well! They gave the best of themselves day after day.

From our feedback meetings I have realized we’ve gone through a mix of feelings and context-related difficulty levels as we confronted each challenge. Those feelings and contexts defined both how easy it was to adopt each new habit (and get rid of the old ones) during the week, and how easy it would be to maintain those new habits once the experiment is over. To review the outcomes of the week, I tried to classify the challenges within those axes. Here is the view:

Context/Feelings

Challenges in which we usually enjoyed the benefit of the old habits but not the habit themselves.

Challenges in which we usually enjoyed the old habits themselves

Challenges in which the context we live in supports the new habits

(1) Transportation (on campus)

(3) Eating local
Eating vegetarian (off campus)

Challenges in which the context we live in does not support the new habits

(2) TrashConsumptionTransportation (off campus)Giving back

(4) ElectricityWaterEco SabbathEating vegetarian (on campus)

The first box is about challenges in which the old habits were easy to kick out during the week because they created unnecessary harm (although they made our lives more comfortable). They are also the challenges where the new habits will be easy to maintain now that the experiment is over because our context supports them. These are the definite keepers. They include mainly the on-campus transportation challenge, thanks to our fine campus bike lane system.

How about meatless days, renewable energy systems, water collectors, and
a more responsible system for administrating time that leaves space for
the things that really matter?

The second box is about challenges in which the old habits were easy to kick out for the week but where new habits will be harder to keep because our context does not support them. These will be the keepers, but with extra effort. We felt great about getting rid of old habits like trash, overconsumption, fossil fuels, and not giving back. But the ways our lives are wired mean we need to work some more to deal with the status quo—and change it—perhaps by designing an adequate lobbying strategy.

The third box is for challenges in which the old habits were not as easy to get rid of because we actually enjoyed how they spiced up our lives (for instance, eating imported goods and meat). But they are challenges where the new habits will be easy to maintain thanks to the options available, as the wide arrange of local foods and vegetarian recipes. These will be the more conscious going-backers. Sure, we will go back to olives, mushrooms, and hams to enrich our salads at home. But we might stick to the healthier and less energy-intense local choices whenever possible.

The last box is for challenges in which the old habits were not as easy to get rid of because they make our lives a lot more comfortable. And the context, well, does not help either. These included: meat on campus, and easy access to electricity, water, and connectivity. We did well controlling our consumption during the week, but I think these are the challenges where we can get more creative at finding post experiment alternatives. How about meatless days, renewable energy systems, water collectors, and a more responsible system for administrating time that leaves space for the things that really matter?

There are ways to address the challenges that we did not get to explore this week. Next time we get involved in the experiment, as we certainly plan to, we would like to create an aromatic herbs nursery with our yogurt containers and to explore mitigation options for our remaining carbon emissions. Moreover, we want to have a stronger promotion strategy to get more people involved in our teams. And we already have pending plans such as our consumption awareness school session, figuring out where exactly food comes from at the dining hall, and an environmentally friendly sharing afternoon we want to invite our community to.

Once we were done with the experiment, understanding that our happiness and satisfaction levels actually increased during the week, we realized that the No Impact lifestyle is not a matter of privation. It is a matter of choice. A matter about achieving the same standards of life or better in a more efficient way.

The experiment extended our awareness on the things we do, our perspective of what we think is possible and our conviction about the meaningful things that are within our hands. We encourage anybody to engage this experience to see how far you can take it. We can assure you that there is a lot to win.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from the Eco-Sabbath: September 25thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 14:50:00 GMT-7ArticleJames Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/james-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Working nights on the South Side of Chicago is hardly the easiest way to go No Impact. But James wants to create a better world for his niece.

So far this week:

Hello from the South Side of Chicago, where I'll be spending my No Impact Week. I've been making changes in my life recently, and I'm hoping that No Impact Week will take it to the next level.

I have no idea what I’m getting
myself into, but what is life without something new, scary and
challenging?

I work in media, which nowadays is probably one of the
least environmentally friendly careers you can pick. Every day, I’m
constantly plugging in, linking to, and killing away many hours of
electricity and battery life. Each office I’ve worked in has killed a
lot of trees in the amount of paper it leaves behind; and most late
nights at work call for whatever Grub Hub says is open, instead of a
farmers market or homemade meal.

It begs the question: Why do No Impact Week at all?
Well, if not now, then when?

I feel myself
becoming too tied to gadgets, to driving, and this modern way of life
that leaves less time for simpler things. I know there are things I can do,
but putting it all together and being persistent have been the hard
parts for me. This will be an even more Herculean task because my
sister and niece are visiting from out of town this week, and trying to
leave a smaller carbon footprint becomes even tougher when also keeping
track of a 2-year-old.

But she’s a big inspiration to push forward
with this. I think a lot about how the world will be when she’s older.
Will it be better? Will it be worse? There are so many big problems
out there that I almost feel helpless in being able to do something
about them to make things better for her. But not this. I see it as
not just something that can help the environment, but also one more
important thing I can teach her.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

Day one wasn’t so bad. The weather was cloudy and rainy, so that took away any motivation to go out. Even if I did, I don’t think I would worry about purchasing something I didn’t need.

Bills and student loans can make you think twice about buying what you need and not buying what you don’t. Today’s goal made me think of my consumption habits the past few days and I was surprised at how minimal they’ve been.

James hopes that his niece, Nylah, will grow up in a more stable and connected world.

On Saturday, I helped take my family out to dinner and, later that night, I went to see a movie (no purchases from the snack bar, of course.). The day before, it was a 1 a.m. trip after work to Walgreens to buy my sister some contact lens solution. Recently, I tried to remember the last time I used cash, or went to use an ATM. It’s been at least a month, surprisingly. I don’t know if it says more about me carving out a new way of life or just the times we live in today.

If there’s one really bad consumption habit I need to kick, it’s been food. I would describe myself as the poster boy for eating like a college student long after I was a college student. Whether it is late-night fast food runs or buying a few too many items not on the shopping list before going to the grocery store, I’ve been there. And it’s shown up in my waistline and bank account statements.

But a few months ago, I decided to change that. So far, and 40 pounds later, it’s been a pretty amazing thing. I’ve never felt better, and it’s turned on this risk button inside me that’s pushing me more out of my comfort zone. Maybe it’s kind of what brought me to No Impact Week. I’m excited to see what this week brings and read other people’s No Impact experiences. Godspeed.

Coming into Monday, I was pretty nervous. I kept thinking, “Uh oh, here’s where this thing is really gonna kick me in the butt.” But just like Sunday, it made me realize how much I’ve changed a lot of my habits lately. Although I couldn’t quite make the goal of no trash for the day, I came pretty close: four small pieces of garbage. There were some things that were just unavoidable, such as dental floss and that teeny, tiny piece of tissue paper I used to blow my nose.

I always know I don’t need the extra napkins, but I would always think,
“You never know.” As if some catastrophic sneezing attack, drink
spill, or nose bleed will occur, and I need to be on napkin standby.

My big accomplishment was making use of the regular plates and utensils at home. I don’t know how, but over the last few years I’ve become a slave to all things plastic: plates, forks, spoons, cups, etc. I would even get at mad at a restaurant for forgetting to include a plastic fork with my order. Who does that?

It became even worse once I was on my own. It was the stereotypical life of a young single guy, with enough paper plates to write a book and an assortment of plastic forks collected from the likes of Popeyes and fine Mexican dining.

The weird thing is that it’s not how I was brought up. I actually enjoyed the process of eating with a regular plate and fork and then washing it so well I could see my reflection. It made me think how easy it is to fall into a bad habit, but also how easy it can be to get myself out of it—as long as I put in the work on my end to do it.

Oh, and don’t get me started on paper towels and napkins. I’ve been guilty as charged quite a bit on that end, but getting better. Yesterday, I was able to use not a single piece and—as the song goes—I feel fine. It’s just another habit I have to break.

It’s like when you’re in a restaurant, more likely of the fast food nature, and you pack your tray with extra napkins, and you end up using only one or two. I always know I don’t need the extra napkins, but I would always think, “You never know.” As if some catastrophic sneezing attack, drink spill, or nose bleed will occur, and I need to be on napkin standby. But it never happens, and if it did, I could simply just walk over and get the extra napkins if I really need them. Plus I’d get a little exercise out of it at the same time.

It really is about the simple things. In time they add up and make that bigger impact on our lives and others that freeze us early on when we consider something like the environment. At least that’s how I see it. I don’t know. I’m such a work in progress.

I get a big, fat F for Tuesday. My means of transportation remained the same as always: my intrepid Dodge Intrepid.

It’s not that I didn’t want to give it up for a day. I did. In fact, I often think about how it would be to give up my car and what it would be like. But my current predicament and other unfortunate circumstances put that on hold for the moment.

My current job is 12 miles away from my house. During normal business hours, it could be a simple commute by train or bus, but my hours aren’t that normal. They’re from 5 p.m. to 1 a.m., and last night, I worked until 2 a.m.

You might ask, what about carpooling with a co-worker, or getting a ride from someone else? Well, all of the other co-workers on my shift live farther north of me, past downtown, and the only one who gets off at the same time I do lives the farthest north.

I considered a car sharing plan with my mom, but she gets off work an hour before I start and because of rheumatoid arthritis and other ailments, she can’t go up and down the subway steps like she used to. It’s not the worst of situations, but it illustrates the limitations we all have in trying to do No Impact Week, especially those who are poor.

Here in Chicago, about 400,000 people live in food deserts—areas that have no or very limited access to fresh foods. Think about that number. That’s bigger than the populations in Miami, Cleveland, Oakland, and Minneapolis. How would they be able to participate in buying nothing but organic or locally grown food for one day—let alone make it a regular part of their lives?

The neighborhoods that do have greater access to fresh foods can be too far to travel. Many bus lines on the South and West Sides have reduced service; fares are up; and gas is higher and higher. Not to drop another number on you, but I must, because it’s not just in Chicago, it’s everywhere. There was a recent Brookings Institute report that showed how hundreds of thousands of households have both no car and limited access to public transit. And even many people who have access to transit can’t get to most jobs in their area within 90 minutes.

But getting off my soapbox and back to life, the one big factor that keeps me from taking the late ride back by train is safety. I’m reminded of what my mom will always say when I go out with friends: “Be careful. There’s too much going on out here.” Indeed, there is too much going in some parts of Chicago, including my neighborhood, Chatham.

A brief history of Chatham: Newspapers will say that it’s known for its black middle class and well-kept lawns and now it’s turned to hell. That’s way, way oversimplifying it. It’s home to the second largest concentration of senior citizens in Chicago and has called Mahalia Jackson, Ernie Banks, and former U.S. Senator Roland Burris residents. There’s a lot to love about it—a rich history, and overall a nice place to raise a family.

But it’s been rough for long while out here, and we were raised early on to watch our backs. My mom, my sister, my grandmother, and I have each been robbed within a one or two-block radius of our house—and this was long before Chatham grabbed headlines for its violence over the last year or two.

Every week, there’s a community flyer about break-ins, stickups and gangs. It’s gotten to the point where some people feel like they need a gun to take out the garbage. Even my mom applied for a gun license. All of this runs through my head almost every night on the drive home. Many times I circle around, and drive through our alley to make sure no one is around. I pray that a neighbor is coming home at the same time, so I’m not the only one getting out of my car. It’s not an ideal way to live one’s life, but it’s home.

Now don’t let my story paint me as a pessimist who thinks No Impact Week can be only be done in certain places. Even with the limitations and adjustments, there’s still a lot that I and others who find themselves in the situations described above can do. A lot of it starts with those everyday habits we fall into.

But I also feel like it points out how connected a lot of these issues are. We make the mistake of thinking one has nothing to do with the other. What do the environment and urban violence have in common? Well, it’s a cause and effect. Because of one problem, some people are unable to fully tackle the other. Connecting those dots, I believe, can go a long way in getting more people involved and painting an even fuller big picture.

Here’s a day where I could have done some better planning ahead of time. I didn’t stray too far, but I also wasn’t able to keep Wednesday’s grub locally grown either.

My main dish for the past few days has been a wheat pasta and baked chicken combo (using no plastic fork) my mom cooked up on Sunday. The ingredients weren’t local, but came from the Food 4 Less just four blocks from our house. It used to be that after the day the meal was cooked—or sometimes after the next day—I would move onto something else and not touch Sunday dinner again. Many trips home after work consisted of getting dinner on the go chocked with all the bad stuff doctors warn you about. How times have changed. Overall, I’m more patient with my food habits. I don’t give in to impulse or eat it just because it’s there.

It almost makes me feel like a student again, studying all these food
chemicals and calculating calories, sodium, and sugar intakes.

Changing my food habits over the past months has been one of the best choices I could make. I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was hard. It still is, but I take it one meal, one day at a time. As I wrote about a little earlier, it’s resulted in me losing 40 pounds so far. I don’t think I’ve ever been as selective in choosing not just what to eat, but also how much. It almost makes me feel like a student again, studying all these food chemicals and calculating calories, sodium, and sugar intakes.

To go the straight local route feels like that huge next level of a video game I know I have to reach, but not before I conquer that tricky path preceding it. It’s always exciting to daydream about getting there, but it’s still one meal, one day.

I’ve gotta admit that Thursday was kind of fun. I thought it would be harder than it actually turned out to be. What made it easier, I think, is the change in habits I’ve been making the past few months. Things like not watching TV were easy when I was downstairs in my domain – not so much upstairs with my niece who wanted her daily fixings of Yo Gabba Gabba and Sid the Science Kid.

I’ve been weaning myself off TV for a while, actually. I had the misfortune of growing up with one in my room, and it became great to have around for a 7-year-old who was afraid of the dark. As I got older, it became that classic background to whatever else I was doing. I wish I had a dollar for every moment I turned on the TV not to watch it, but to channel surf over and over and over again.

But now, I’m much more picky about when I turn on the TV. It might be as little as once or twice a week.

The biggest obstacles I had to face Thursday were my trusty fan and radio. They’ve probably been my biggest energy drainers over the years – even more than TV. It’s mainly because I have this weird sleeping habit where I need noise or something going as I’m sleeping. A fan, a radio, or both have been my constants for a long time, regardless of the season. I had already been experimenting with cutting out the radio over the past week, and it hasn’t been that tough. My main use for it recently has been when I work out. I found listening to the news to be not only a good exercise companion, but also a better timekeeper than looking over at a clock every two minutes.

But taking that and the fan out of the equation for a day? Not bad at all. The silence was a little refreshing, especially when working out. It was as if an even bigger calming came over my mind. Going to bed was just as simple too. I could always go to sleep without either if I were in a hotel, so I knew nothing was stopping me from doing it at home. It was just a matter of…habits.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 14:20:00 GMT-7ArticleErin Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/erin-blogs-on-no-impact-week
After leaving a simple life in an ashram in India, Erin's figuring out how to live responsibly—and joyfully—in a challenging place: home.

So far this week:

A couple of years ago, I was living outside of Delhi, India, in a community of formerly destitute people. My life with them made me realize the effect that Western lifestyles often have on the rest of the world, and especially on those living in poverty.

Now that I'm back in Australia—in a town of about 40,000 people on the edge of the outback—I want to learn how to better live lightly on the earth, without destruction. I've had both times where I was depressed about it and didn't try as hard, and times when I've been quite hardcore, but I'd like to find a balance between idealism and inertia.

I'm doing this challenge because I know I need a bit of a shake up again, I know I'm becoming more and more unconscious of my 'impact' the longer I live at home in Australia, and I'm looking forward to spending a week examining myself (in a playful way) along with everyone else who is taking up the challenge!

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

I’m really looking forward to this week. And I’m also wondering if I’ll need a holiday afterward because it already feels kind of intense.

Just one day has left me reeling a bit because when you start to carry your rubbish around; and then go into the cheap shop to by “essential items” (see list below); and then come home to notice how you tend to reach for the hot tap by default and how much water is going down the loo ... So much is automatic and it’s a challenge to actually think about it!

Just the anticipation of the challenge over the last week has been good for me—it's agitated me and got me thinking. Good stuff.

Sunday was really great: After a cultural festival, a dig in the community garden, and a bag of my collected rubbish, I was cycling home (unfortunately uphill) and my neighbor passed me in her car. She stopped for a chat because we haven’t actually seen each other for the past week. Better than just passing in our cars and waving!

Never say Never

Erin works in her local community garden.

Photo courtesy of Erin Collins.

After an intense time working with the poor in India, I embarked on a bit of a journey with some friends, trying to make sense of the world and its inequalities and our part to play in it. I was pretty active and passionate about things, and at the time I made a lot of “never again” statements.

Now, back in Oz, I feel like I’m doing all those things: I’m living alone, working full-time, driving my car to work most days (all of 5 minutes), buying things wrapped in plastic, getting more and more possessions as time goes on.

I’ve tried to be a bit ‘conscious’ about my consumption, but if I look hard at myself, I’m slowly getting lazy and comfortable again. That’s not to say that being crazy hardcore about these things is right either—I actually think that the "never" statements can be harmful because when you inevitably go back on them (and I think there’s some universal law that says you will), you feel like a failure.

And there are the shades of gray: I live alone because I feel somewhere inside that I need to for a while—for my mental health. And working full-time again has turned out to present new challenges and room for growth that I didn’t expect.

The system certainly isn’t perfect, and so many things frustrate me. But hey, maybe I have more chance to grow by being in a challenging situation than the ideal life of living off the land in self-sustainable communal bliss.

Final thoughts on me vs. consumption

Thankfully I’m not much of a shopper and I usually go to the shops with a mission…but that’s not to say that I don’t usually come home with much more than I planned—and somehow I still manage to gather a lot of stuff.

My neighbor mentioned that she’s going to have a garage sale at the end of the month—so I’ve got a purging task this week. I’ll pull out a big box and start throwing things I don’t need into it.

I’ve just joined up with freecycle. Not much happening in Dubbo but I love the idea.

I’ve set myself the challenge not to enter a supermarket this week. Thankfully I have enough toilet paper to last me.

My list of things I will buy this week is as follows: My weekly newspaper (it’s only once a week, it’s small, and I like my weekly chat with the newsagents); bicycle lights from a local bike shop & high viz vest (legal and safe); a compost bucket; a few packs of seeds (it’s time to start planting in the Southern Hemisphere). I should get by with food after a big farmers market shop on Saturday a quick look in my pantry will assure you that I won’t starve.

I like how this challenge is making me horrified about "normal" things. I was horrified as I peeled a sticker off an apple, horrified by the pile of uncollected paper next to the printer at work, horrified by my hand reaching for a paper towel to dry off ...

Spookily—to extend the horror theme—a recycling program started at work today. For me it was also a significant day because after weeks of thinking about it, I finally took my food scraps to work to give to a colleague who has chooks. This has a rather exciting spin-off for me: It means that there is no excuse for using plastic bags to collect my rubbish (excuse being that they neatly contain oozy foodstuff). I got so good awhile back at using my reusable shopping bags that I actually purposely didn’t use them so I could get plastic bags because I had run out.

A lesson learned: There are a lot of hungry chickens out there who want my scraps.

So a lesson learned: There are a lot of hungry chickens out there who want my scraps. A decision was made today from all of this (along with the first colleague with the chooks) that we would start a scrap bin in the kitchen at work and see how it goes. A little bit of horror goes a long way!

This week has happened at "that time of the month" but thankfully I started using reusable alternatives to disposable pads and tampons years ago. I remember the pivotal point of decision with that was when I was in India and had the (extremely horrifying) realization that whatever I put in the rubbish bin there would invariably be opened and touched and sorted by a poor rag-picker. I couldn’t wish that on anyone. I’m also glad that I didn’t have to carry anything like that around with me as part of the challenge!

A few “highlights” from my rubbish collection:

When I was in India I had the (extremely horrifying) realization that
whatever I put in the rubbish bin there would invariably be opened and
touched and sorted by a poor rag-picker.

Plastic plate and Yabbie heads—from the cultural festival yesterday. I wanted to eat and it all looked so good and there was only throwaway plastic to put it on. And Yabbie heads…well what the heck do you do with them? (Yabbies are Australian crayfish).

Tag from the reflective vest I bought (see day one for excuse)—can be recycled.

One of those stretchy plastic stringy orange bags that Oranges come in—this was being used as a "reusable bag" to collect my rubbish in until I realized that yabbie heads would not be contained (and juice would escape through holes) and therefore had to wrap yabbie heads and plate in a plastic bag.

A tissue that I blew my nose with (should use a hanky).

Food scraps—(now making chooks happy).

Cotton bud used to clean my ears (I guess I should let the wax come out naturally).

Tissue used to wipe blood after bike stack (I probably should have just left it).

Things I’m thankful for:

Colleagues who graciously listen to me rave on and on about whatever is happening in my life at the time (which now happens to be No Impact Week).

The lady who slowed down so as not to run me over when I stacked my bike today.

Spring

My ‘patch’ in the community garden—and the sunset I enjoyed down there this eveninghe perfectly peaceful end to an horrific day!

I own a car. And frankly, there is a list of excuses for having one here. I’ve got good friends who live out of town and riding my bicycle 30 km just ain’t gonna happen. My parents live 250 km down the road and to coordinate with the bus or train times I need to take a 4-day weekend. And up until recently I hadn’t really thought there was a good enough alternative for getting home after dark.

For getting around town there are good options. The bus isn’t really a good one unless you don’t want to go out on Sundays and don’t want to stay in town past 5.30 p.m. Walking is good—I already try to walk to work (sometimes) because 20 minutes walking is a great way to frame the working day.

But Dubbo is rather sprawling and the best way to get around in general, I think, is by bicycle. Because the very good bike that I bought a few months ago hasn’t seen much of the road, I decided prior to No Impact Week that I would leave my car at home for the whole week (at least until Saturday) and cycle everywhere: to work (2 km), the community garden (5 km), one evening meeting and whatever else comes up. Simple, right?

A quick “up to speed” on the harsh reality of cycling in Dubbo.

Erin has to rig up her helmet with these cords in order to ward off swooping magpies while biking.

Photo by Erin Collins.

1: Magpies. If you’ve never been swooped everyday for weeks in spring by a deranged magpie trying to protect its young, you don’t know how traumatizing this can be. Happily the cable ties projecting from my helmet like antennas seem to have worked at deterring them so far.

2. Snakes. This is no word of a lie—my friend Bron was cycling today and nearly ran over a big brown snake. Luckily it was slithering fast. Not sure how you can avoid snakes except for keeping an eye out for them!

3. Potential for knee grazes and ankle bleeds (probably more to do with me than Dubbo): Yes, this happened yesterday close to home. I was signaling whilst slowing down whilst looking behind etc etc and went all wobbly and fell off in the middle of the road. Ouch!

4. Cat heads. Not the furry kind—rather, the freaky, can-stab-through-your-thong-(flip-flop)-through-to your-foot variety. Described as “thumbtack-like," I have shredded tubes on these before.

Lunchtime discussions today at work included thoughts on energy use, a
toilet cistern that doubles as a handbasin, and whether I would need to
put out a bucket and wait for it to rain in order to drink truly local
water.

Well you would think that with all these reasons why cycling in Dubbo is probably more hazardous than wrestling crocodiles, I would give up. But after three days of cycling at least 10 km per day and only actually experiencing number three above, I think I’m hooked. I feel good, I love the feeling of physical exhaustion when I hop into bed, I love riding under the stars in the fresh air at night, and I love being less in my car. And there are pluses about Dubbo: It is relatively flat and the wide roads mean nice big shoulders, even if there are not many bike paths.

So it’s easy enough to reduce my car dependency for myself, but what about for work? Our team of Occupational Therapists travel far and wide to provide a service to a big chunk of western New South Wales. On a big trip this means traveling a minimum of 400 km one way. More regularly for me it means once or twice a fortnight travelling to a town 120 km away. I’m wondering what my profession would look like in a post-cheap-oil future? Hmmmm.

Aside from all the fun that this challenge is proving to be, I have to
admit I’m feeling really exhausted—thinking about
everything I do, and facing a lot of my habits.

Lunchtime discussions today at work included thoughts on energy use, a toilet cistern that doubles as a handbasin, and whether I would need to put out a bucket and wait for it to rain in order to drink truly local water. I ate my local parsnips and salad with delight (my shop at the farmers markets on Saturday has already meant a lot of local, healthy food). And when I washed my hands I pulled out my little square of old pillowslip that I had in my pocket rather than use the paper towel!

Aside from all the fun that this challenge is proving to be, I have to admit I’m feeling really exhausted. Partly the increased physical activity, but it’s also the mental/emotional stuff—thinking about everything I do (and facing a lot of my habits) and blogging about it means sitting down each evening trying to write something coherent and staying up later than usual. But I think it helps with being mindful.

And now, I’m going to steal a line from my fellow blogger, Ta’Kaiya: "No Impact Week can lead to No Impact Month or Year or a complete change altogether.”

It's always better with company: Sharing with visiting couchsurfers, including Andrew (pictured), made Erin's local food feast more meaningful and enjoyable.

Photo by Erin Collins.

I read Vicki Robin’s article 7 Ways to Cook Up a Sustainable Diet on the weekend and thought it was great—nice and concise and sensible. It planted a few things in my brain for the week: I started sprouting again (for some reason I didn’t do it over winter), and I have made a commitment to myself to consider what is in my cupboard as “local” for the next weeks and try not to buy any food except fresh fruit and veggies. I have also tried to ‘savor’ my food more, and eat slowly. Last night I experienced even more ‘savor’ as I was sharing with new friends.

I’m not so good with the local food thing, aside from vegetables. Looking at labels, a lot of things are “made in Australia from local and imported ingredients.” Even if things are made in Australia it could be thousands of kms away. If I think about things I don’t want to give up—they’d be my oats and nuts and tahini (all from the supermarket). But I didn’t eat them today.

My local food adventure began on Saturday with a trip to the local farmers markets. Knowing what was ahead, I made a point of asking most of them where their produce was from. I was pleasantly surprised by the variety of great local food. Most of my veggies came from Neurea (66km) and some from Cowra (211km). Even more local were the Narromine Oranges, the mushrooms, olives, avocados, and seedlings. Probably the thing from the farthest away was the sourdough bread from the Blue Mountains (about 300km)…I couldn’t resist and I needed some kind of “staple.”

After offering them a cup of tea I realized that none of my tea/herbal
options could be considered local. It’s moments like those when you get
close to just bending the rule a little bit.

So yesterday it wasn’t so hard to eat local. I made a nice salad for lunch and munched on oranges and apples throughout the day. In the afternoon I did crave a packet of chips (which I don’t even want very often), but my colleague Michelle listened to me complain about this and talked me through it. I drank water instead.

Dinner was special. I came home from work (by bicycle of course), to greet two lovely couchsurfers who came to stay the night, Andrew and Nici. After offering them a cup of tea I realized that none of my tea/herbal options could be considered local. It’s moments like those when you get close to just bending the rule a little bit….but anyway I searched around and decided to squeeze some very local lemon (given away at a meeting I went to the other night) into my water.

I was all excited because another purchase I had made at the market was “saltbush lamb chops”—a local lamb that claims to be more sustainable because the lambs eat a lot of saltbush.

What's so good about Old Man Saltbush? This is a native plant supplying lambs with a rich source of minerals and nutrients not readily available from other plants. It is a deep-rooted perennial that assists with sustainable land management as it helps to prevent salinity.

It’s our inner sustainability that matters in this crazy world, and it’s
the only place that we can start from where all of us have the choice to
change, regardless of the circumstances around us.

It is hardy to the outback country and requires very little water to grow, so needs no irrigation or watering.

Lambs grazed on Old Man Saltbush require no drenching which means they are much healthier animals.

Old Man Saltbush is environmentally sustainable as it allows a diverse array of native wildlife to co-exist with the lambs.

I very rarely cook meat (my friend Amy can testify to that: She has supervised my two attempts at cooking meat in seven months) and I know that part of the challenge for this week was to reduce meat consumption. But I was happy to go the other way if I could find something more sustainable. It was a great idea, but it was thwarted when I pulled the meat out of the fridge and smelled it… maybe it was a sign!

Andrew and Nici happily went along with my local rules and we feasted on steamed vegetables (potato, broccoli, beetroot, parsnip, onion, sweet potato) and bread with avocado and olives! It was really delightful to share a meal together as we got to know each other, to savor the food slowly and also enjoy the solitude around us.

Our conversation led us to talk about some of the craziness going on in this world. Wondering about the future, I was reminded of something I felt I’ve learned over the last years after talking and thinking over and over again about these topics: It’s our inner sustainability that matters in this crazy world, and it’s the only place that we can start from where all of us have the choice to change, regardless of the circumstances around us. For me, something deep says that that should be a priority. I think that trying to be more aware and present through this challenge helps that, or at least reminds me of that.

I must say that doing this day alone would not have been anywhere near as fun.

I experimented years ago for a short time with not turning on artificial lights at all—only using candles when it got dark. I also tried not to have other forms of artificial light (like TV or a computer screen) on either. What prompted me to do that was thinking about how our bodies must be so out of whack when we try to prolong the day artificially (I guess you kind of need to if you live somewhere with extremely short winter days), and our bodies probably don’t get all the cues they need to get ready for sleep. Like that it’s getting dark.

Without artificial light, Erin gets tired at a more appropriate time for her body.

Photo by Erin Collins.

As I write this, it’s 6.40pm. I’m sitting in my dark unit, and the sun has just gone down. There are a few candles lit on the table and otherwise it is just the computer screen (a necessary evil if I’m to write this blog post!).

I came home absolutely exhausted today after staying up late last night and getting up early to write the last post, and thought I’d get an early night. How convenient—the darkness is adding to my sleepiness.

Probably the biggest energy-suckers in my unit are the hot water tank, the fridge, the heater or air-con if I use it, and the washing machine.

Winter is pretty much over, so I thought, why not switch off the hot water? It’s a huge tank. I have never run out. I probably don’t even use a quarter of what’s in there (not sure, really!). But certainly during summer I should be able to get by with cold showers, and will probably even want cold showers (it gets hot in Dubbo). And I usually wash my laundry with cold. And I could always boil the kettle for the washing up.

Well my friendly couchsurfer confirmed that if I flick the switch that says “hot water” it will turn off (for some reason I’m nervous about touching these things without a second opinion) so I will do it….soon….maybe after my next hot shower! I can certainly turn it off anytime I go away, at least.

About the fridge: I’m not sure I’m ready to give that up. But I must say, it disturbed me last night, as I sat at the table with Andrew and Nici—we had a moment of silence before dinner and my ears were filled with a kind of screeching noise that I think was coming from the fridge. It’s that constant electrical noise that you don’t usually notice. It might be radio waves, etc., as well, I don’t know. But it’s a shame when you can’t have total silence because of these darn appliances!

Right now we’re in that beautiful mid-season where I don’t need heat or cooling. But I hope this summer I will be able to minimize the cooling… this may be aided by the cold showers.

The washing machine gets used a couple of times a week (lights and darks). I don’t have a dryer, so I always hang out my washing on my clothesline—or if it’s too cold or raining then it’s hung inside and it dries nicely, especially if I’m heating.

On the plus side, I don’t have a TV, and I think that has a lot of pluses. TV can be such a time-suck. And an energy suck. I’m just not exposed to all those commercial messages that contribute to the consumption-urge: I totally missed Fathers day this year. and I think it’s because of lack of TV and junk mail…and because I didn’t go shopping except to the supermarket.

I do still watch the odd thing on the Internet, but I choose it, rather than plonking down and flicking channels and just watching for the sake of it.

In Australia, being conscious of water use is drilled into you at a young age. To think that some adults actually leave the tap running while they brush their teeth shocks me. There’s a lot of education around on how to save water, and during summer we are often under water restrictions (at level 1 you can still use a sprinkler, by level 6 you must use recycled water to water your garden).

The water is effectively being “mined,” as it is not a neverending
supply. Why the heck are we
exploiting this precious resource without knowing if it is just going to
dry up one day?

During restrictions we also have rules where you only water every other day, depending on your house number. So, it’s something we’re aware of. You don’t want to be caught washing your car with a hose during water restrictions!

Having said all of that, the country as a whole (we’ll get to me personally in a minute) doesn’t seem to give a stuff when it comes to preserving our precious (finite) water resources like the Great Artesian Basin (GAB), an underground aquifer that is a source of water through springs to much of inland Australia, and a valuable support for wildlife. The Olympic Dam mine in South Australia (mining uranium, copper, gold, and silver) uses 35 million litres of GAB water each day. It’s not just Olympic Dam that’s doing this—coal seam gas mining also poses a significant threat to this resource. (Don’t get me started on coal seam gas mining—they want to cover the amazing Pilliga Forest with extraction sites…it just shouldn’t happen).

The water is effectively being “mined,” as it is not a neverending supply. As it is mined, the pressure decreases and natural springs dry up. It worries me to read that there is no consensus as to whether the recharge rates of the GAB are equal to the total of discharge rates (via natural discharge and pumping/exploitation). So why the heck are we exploiting this precious resource without knowing if it is just going to dry up one day?

Whatever happened to the precautionary principle?

Australia is pretty much gaga about mining at the moment. It’s the lifeblood of our economy, and the government is rolling in revenue from it. But at what future expense, I ask? Do the powers that be just not care about future generations in such a dry land?

I’d say I’m "fairly" aware of water use. It doesn’t help, though, that until now I haven’t had to pay for water in my rental unit. And money can be a big incentive. But I do have a two-liter milk bottle in my toilet cistern to reduce my flush; I tend to take quick showers; I sometimes reuse laundry water for a second load or to water the lawn; and because I live alone it’s easy to do the "mellow yellow" thing and not flush unless I have to.

But in watching myself use water the last days, I realize that most water I only use once, so I have decided to try my hardest to get at least two uses out of all the water I use (except drinking). That means using a tub to wash my dishes (using less dishes would be good too!), having a bucket in the shower, not letting laundry water go down the drain, using steaming and sprouting water to water my plants. Not sure about hand washing, or mouth rinsing water…but I’m sure I’ll work it out.

I kind of dropped off the No Impact perch yesterday by driving 300 km in order to wade for three hours in the Macquarie Marshes. I suppose you could say it was “balanced” by helping me become physically aware of an extremely important part of our local ecology, and participating in a small fundraiser for people who are passionate about the health of our river systems!

Because I believe that I have a soul, and that there is some
‘connectedness’ somewhere hidden within, there is something in me that
is probably screaming when I create problems for the earth by my “little”
choices.

In a way it fits neatly in with this challenge: These people were trying to connect people’s lifestyles (in particular water use) with the “bigger picture”—the environment that we live in and which ultimately sustains us.

This week has been a lot about developing awareness for me. But it’s probably not going to last if I don’t go some step further than just thinking about “lifestyle choices.” Because, let’s face it—if it’s just about little me, or us, trying to ‘make a difference’ in the face of such huge scary problems on a scale that looms high above us…well, isn’t it just all pointless to make sacrifices?

I don’t believe it’s pointless. Not because I believe that we will actually end up having world peace and no poverty and that my future grandchildren's grandchildren will live on a pristine planet (I can’t honestly say I believe that). But because I believe that I have a soul, and that there is some ‘connectedness’ somewhere hidden within, there is something in me that is probably screaming when I do waste, when I do consume more than my fair share, when I do create problems for the earth by my “little” choices.

I guess it’s good to hear this little voice again, to feel my conscience and know that to follow it, whatever that means, will ultimately mean peace, connectedness, and less fragmentation. If we dig deep enough, Something in us just knows.

I think that the name of this challenge is perhaps misleading, making you think of taking up neutral space on the planet…What about making a real, positive, subtle, surprising, soulful and personal Impact?

There are so many benefits to living a lower-impact and simpler lifestyle. Reading the other bloggers, I can see a common theme of re-discovering neighborhoods, good conversation, peace, healthy eating, and exercise. I guess that it’s all stuff that also enriches our souls as well as the more "inner conscience" stuff I talked about before.

As I write this, I’m sick at home, not sure if it’s the cumulative "impact" of No Impact Week (I expended a lot of personal energy this week!), but it shows me how easy it would be now to just do things that are easy and comfortable, to keep old habits alive because I just “can’t be bothered.”

But thankfully this experience has been rather powerful and inspiring, and I hope that I will continue this reflective way of living, making small changes along the way.

I’m already pretty astounded by the number of changes I have already made that I think will stick at least to some degree. Who would have thought what just a one week commitment could achieve?

A big thank you to YES! for inviting me to blog about this experience. The sharing of it has certainly made it a far more intense but also personally rewarding experience. And a big shout out to all the fellow bloggers and participants in this No Impact Week. We Did It!

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from the Eco-Sabbath: September 25thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 12:40:00 GMT-7ArticleYES! Magazine Blogs On No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/yes-magazine-blogs-on-no-impact-week
With a homemade office rocket stove, a zero-waste flash mob, and a lights-out party, solutions for low-impact living are more fun than we thought.

So far this week:

The past few weeks have been unusually lively at the YES! office. Twenty staff and interns have joined the YES! Magazine Dream Team for No Impact Week—there’s excitement but also apprehension about just how hard this week might be.

Some of us have long commutes to the office. Others have kids. We all have a lot to do every day at work. But each of my 20 team members have contributed stories, ideas, and a sense of adventure as we prepare to step up to Colin Beavan’s challenge.

I’ve already been surprised by the ways in which I’ve gotten to know my coworkers in new ways, and the week’s just beginning. We’re already a low-impact group, by national standards—we pick veggies from the garden outside our office every day for lunch, we maintain a lively worm bin for our food scraps, and we sometimes work with the lights off to save energy. Many of us bike, bus, ferry, and walk to work already. We patronize local businesses and bank at local banks.

But we’re also used to living comfortable lives. In preparation for No Impact Week, each one of us expressed different concerns: What if I don’t own a bike? Is it hygienic not to flush the toilet every time we use it? How will my kids react to carrying trash around? What about all of the takeout containers we use when we’re too busy to bring a lunch from home? How will I dry my laundry in soggy western Washington?

This week is an opportunity for us each to explore the ways in which our lifestyles affect the planet, and pledge to take the next step to reduce our impact. The challenges and joys will be different for each of us. But it’s certainly more fun when you’re supported and pushed a little further by those around you.

Which brings me to…

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

For me, day one of No Impact Week marked the final day of moving in to my new house with YES! web editor Brooke Jarvis and two other friends. We were coming from a house we’d fully furnished from garage sales, Craigslist, and Freecycle. Our friends were coming from a tiny, off-the-grid cabin they’d built themselves.

Photo by Patrick Green.

No shopping this Sunday. I spent the whole day finding space for our duplicate coolers and canning pots, stacking cases of homemade blackberry wine above the bathroom cabinets, and asking myself how I could possibly own so many shoes. The whole day was a revelation that these four people who are pretty into the minimally consumerist, do-it-yourself lifestyle still own a lot of stuff.

By six that night, we still had a lot of unpacking to do, but that could wait. This day is about consumption, isn’t it? We’d brewed a keg of scotch ale last month, and a big crock of sauerkraut was ready—made from cabbage my new housemate grew on her farm just 10 miles away.

Our friends were happy to help out with this kind of consumption, and came bringing cheese, meat, and homemade bread for some of the tastiest reuben sandwiches around.

As employees at YES! Magazine, we often find it challenging to reconcile our personal lives and actions with our organization's image and reputation, and the actions that we advocate.

For example, with 25 people in our office, recycling and composting is challenging both in terms of educating our staff and interns about how to do it, and holding everyone accountable to actually do it.

In the past month, Gretchen has been working closely with a local zero waste group to bring solid waste diversion to our community, and hold workshops and demonstrations on use.

An Ongoing Conversion

Derek had a life-changing moment at the Hollyhock Summer Gathering last month when two keynote speakers presented the latest information on the plastics issue, including artist/filmmaker Chris Jordan, who gave a very compelling and emotionally wrenching presentation—about albatrosses dying by the tens of thousands on Midway Island, in a remote part of the Pacific Ocean, after having their body cavities filled with plastic.

Plastic bits are found on beaches in San Diego, and as far as Antarctica. In some places, the oceans consist of half plastic bits, and half plankton. The plastic will get smaller, but it will never break down.

The flow of plastic into the oceans is increasing, and we need to take a stand—we need to refuse single-use plastic, and to start conversations with business owners, managers, friends, etc. about how we can reduce waste in a respectful and doable way.

The word that comes to mind as I (Gretchen) move
through this No Impact Week is "awareness." Trash Day has
brought several things to my attention: First, we at YES!
struggle with trash disposal just as much as the next guy; and second, the wrappers from my favorite morning Lara bars are taking up way too
much space in the landfill.

Truthfully, the conversation for this theme has been
happening all month here at the YES! office. The zero waste committee
has been helping us improve our systems with better signage—detailing what goes where—and meeting with our staff to answer those
tough recycling questions: What do we do with our tea packets, with their sneaky foil lining? And what about our used nose tissue?

We quickly realized that in order to simplify and manage
our composting needs, we needed to invest in a commercial composter.
But with this decision came the difficult question—what to do with
our hardworking worms?

A BYO Takeout Container Flash Mob

Photo Essay: Follow YES! staff as they descend on local eateries with reusable plates in hand.

One item that was overwhelming our smaller compost bin
was our takeout containers—a wake-up call to YES! staff that we needed
to rethink how we are getting our lunch items to work. This inspired a BYO container flash mob, armed with plates and homemade cloth napkins, to visit to our local restaurants. It not only brought
awareness to our town's establishments, but also inspired a conversation
with others in our community—and was a fun bonding opportunity for staff!

We visited three locally owned restaurants and asked them if we could either borrow a plate for takeaway that we would wash and return, or to plate our meal on a dish that we brought ourselves.

I (Derek) have been doing this for years in Seattle, and decided to share the idea with my colleagues. Compostable or recyclable takeaway containers are better than throw-away ones, but not using any is the best.

Other Takeaways

So the worms are going home with our staff worm wrangler, our local recycler says "no" to used nose tissue, and we will be attempting to convert to bulk tea to avoid those deceptive tea packets.

And that Lara bar wrapper solution? Gretchen googled the Lara Bar recipe and will attempt to duplicate her favorite peanut butter chocolate chip bar from her kitchen over the weekend.

The lessons in this week are still happening here at YES! At the office, as Gretchen gathers the sprinkled flower petals from our recycle bin (with a frustrated sigh) and moves them to our new compost bucket, she's hopeful.

Healthy eating can also lessen your footprint.

A local foods potluck at the YES! office.

Photo by Jennifer Kaye.

In preparation for this day, I realized a large portion of the food I eat needs to take a plane or truck cross-country just to get to my belly. The banana for my smoothie had to hop on a plane from Ecuador, and those garbanzo beans had a long journey from India to get to my salad.

The "but I'm an unpaid intern" line is hardly an excuse for not eating local at YES! because we have a vegetable garden full of kale, squash, and other tasty eats (even hops!)—only steps from our office.

So this week I can at least speak for the YES! intern house on Bainbridge Island, where all five of us interns live, in that we have been making good on our no-impact pact, eating up everything in our cupboards supplemented with greens from the garden.

In an effort to get the YES! staff and interns to eat a local lunch on Wednesday, we had a potluck at work. Not everything was 100 percent local like my blueberry cheesecake bars, which only included local blueberries and eggs, but everything was still 100 percent delicious. And according to Vicki Robin's article for YES!, 7 Ways to Cook Up a Sustainable Diet, "If it is in your fridge or on your shelves, count it as local."

I'd have to say our fulfillment manager, Paula Murphy, wins the award for most local ingredients used in her tasty potato leek soup. Not only the hearty vegetables were local but also the butter and cream! For the recipe, check out YES! Picks: Recipes for Fall.

When I know my food comes from a short distance away it automatically tastes better—and to be fair, it probably is better. This has been the hardest task for me personally but the one I feeI I will most likely incorporate into my routine, even if only little by little.

Thankfully I have the support of my mother, who despite her love of Wendy’s chicken sandwiches, has agreed to take a no-impact journey with me on the East Coast. Sharing our successes and meals we’ve made with local ingredients have added some excitement to our long-distance relationship, and make me feel that much closer to her.

Right from the beginning, I knew that no energy day was going to be a one of the biggest challenges during all of No Impact Week, probably impossible to do completely. Obviously, I'm on my laptop as I type this entry. But I think it just makes me realize more and more how dependent we are on electricity—even with mundane, everyday things, like illuminating a room with light, or using my phone to call or text someone.

We were able to make a lot of progress, though. The other day, former editorial intern Robby Mellinger came to the YES! office to build a rocket stove, which was featured in YES! Picks in the Summer 2011 issue. Many staff members contributed something to make it possible: Robby brought a massive popcorn tin, and managing editor Doug Pibel and publisher Fran Korten donated items to the cause.

Robby, a former YES! intern, building the rocket stove.

Photo by Kate Malongowski.

It took Robby about an hour and a half to make, and it was his first time making one. It's a very efficient tool because it's insulated by ash, and small sticks in tubing produce enough heat to cook food without producing much smoke. Most importantly, no electricity needed!

I helped Jenni Kaye, another editorial intern at YES!, make candles from soy flakes and lavender oil. We filled the wax in old pasta sauce and peanut butter jars that were already in the house. They were surprisingly simple to make, and they smell great! Awesome Christmas gift idea, anyone?

Idil and Jenni, YES! interns, light the rocket stove in preparation for the No Impact Party.

Photo by Kate Malongowski.

With this combination of great tools, the YES! interns hosted a "no-impact" house party on Thursday night. We utilized the rocket stove by making pasta, and later, smores. Also, we made enough candles to illuminate each room in the house, as well as the back deck where the group ended up settling for most of the evening.

But there was more than just a lack of electricity at that party. I think that because there were few distractions, we were able to have great conversation as friends and co-workers. There wasn't any mingling; we all sat together in one big circle, taking turns talking, and listening when others spoke.

I think with distractions like phones and computers, it's difficult to keep a conversation flowing the way it did last night—especially with 15 people in the group.

It makes me hopeful that others will realize that there are great benefits, beyond saving fossil fuels and money, to not using electricity.

I make a very poor land creature. If possible, I would rather be in the water. If swimming to work was an option, I would much prefer that than riding my bike.

When I stopped being in the pool all the time, around the time I started this internship and stopped giving swimming lessons, I started taking a lot more showers—two a day—and I still never felt clean (minus the chlorine oozing from my pores). I also wash my dishes thoroughly before putting them in the dishwasher. I would say my water use habits would have put me pretty high in the ranking of water use offenders.

According to National Geographic’s Water Footprint calculator, though, I come out below average in every category. Apparently disliking red-meat, being lactose intolerant, and generally being too poor to spend money on many non-food products makes me much more water-friendly to the environment than most Americans.

What the calculator doesn’t have is a category for use of public swimming pools. I was curious how much that could potentially add to my water footprint. I was surprised that, according to the Association of Pool and Spa Professionals, pools use substantially less water than a lawn of the same surface area.

So. If my water consumption is, for the most part, so far below average, what could I do that would make a significant difference in my water footprint? Confine myself to one shower a day, yes. Shorter showers, yes. Let go of spotless dish obsession…working on it. Oh, and I could kick the bottled water habit.

Despite what The Story of Stuff claims in The Story of Bottled Water, I think bottled water tastes infinitely better than tap. City water tends to taste like chlorine. The water out of the tap at the intern house on Bainbridge Island tastes like dirt. The filter on the office tap makes for the only good water I’ve had recently that doesn’t come from a bottle. I don’t know what the waste stats on Brita filters are, but hopefully are the better of two evils in this situation. I can’t go cold turkey and switch to straight tap water, but I can invest in a filter and reusable water bottle.

I do wonder, though, how much of a water impact I make every time I ride the ferry…

Late September brought warm, dry weather to the Puget Sound area—helpful for those No Impact Week team members who made long bike commutes to the YES! office on Bainbridge Island. Adding No Impact changes to our regular work routines made this a busy week. Staff and interns streamlined our office waste systems, made sustainable community connections, sourced, cooked, and shared local food, made candles, arranged parties, and even constructed energy-efficient technology—in this case, a bright red rocket stove.

After work, and the ferry trip back to Seattle (arguably the world’s most beautiful commute), I attended several talks and meetings this week. They’re abundant in autumn, the season of mellow fruitfulness and book tours. The pace was a little hectic, but just by showing up I got valuable insight from expert authors and engaged audiences: On Israel/Palestine Monday night, on divisions in labor unions Friday. On Saturday, activists at the GI coffeehouse at Joint Base Lewis-McChord launched a campaign for recognition and treatment of soldiers suffering war trauma.

By Sunday I was ready for a day of rest and the No Impact “Eco-Sabbath,” but there was one more significant event on the calendar: President Obama’s visit to Seattle. Local groups called for a street greeting to remind the president of the people’s “to-do” list: create green jobs, protect Medicare, end the wars, and save the planet.

A storm blew in after a week of warm still evenings. On Sunday morning I walked through wet, windy streets to the Paramount Theatre where Obama was scheduled to appear. The wide intersections at 9th and Pine were cordoned off from traffic, transformed into something almost like a pedestrian plaza. I found activist friends standing behind a cluster of Tar Sands Action Solidarity signs. We huddled under an umbrella chanting “Pipeline: No!” and “There is No Planet B!” for an hour, then took a break at a nearby coffee shop, where the conversation turned to the question of effectiveness. One discouraged friend, a longtime peace activist, wondered if there was much point in a street corner protest far from the seat of power.

But I was energized. I’d gotten an unexpected, and positive, reaction when I passed out Tar Sands Action leaflets to the well-dressed people waiting in line for the Obama fundraiser. “Have you heard about the Keystone XL pipeline?” I asked. “It would be an environmental disaster, and President Obama has the power to stop it.”

Several people said this was the first time they’d heard about the pipeline. One woman, reading that 1,252 people had been arrested in front of the White House to prevent the State Department’s approval of Keystone XL, said she thought it would be a good idea to get that reported more widely in the media. Several people immediately “got it” when I mentioned the threat to the Ogallala Aquifer, and said they’d go to the Tar Sands Action website for more information. According to my brief straw poll, people need to hear more about this cause.

Dried off and caffeinated, we walked out into the street just as the presidential motorcade rounded the corner. Flashing blue lights, motorcycles streaming past, and then two identical stretch limos with darkened windows. Peering at the first limo, I was sure that familiar silhouette in the backseat was POTUS, but someone said, “No, he’s in that other one.” I still don’t know what I saw. Which was the doppelganger, which the president I voted for?

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from the Eco-Sabbath: September 25thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 12:10:00 GMT-7ArticleKathy Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/kathy-blogs-on-no-impact-week
In Los Angeles, mother and teacher Kathy Kottaras takes on a second No Impact Week to find out where there's still room for change.

So far this week:

Having grown up in Chicago, where I watched my father toil to bury his fig tree during the winter months, I'm especially in awe of my arugula and Swiss chard, who laugh in the face of wind and hail. I am trying the No Impact Experiment for the second time. I also blog at plantthisgarden.com.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

My eggplants are depleted. They spent all summer growing and flowering,
only to drop all of their dainty purple flowers, producing no fruit at
all. I spoke to the helpful expert at my local gardening store
yesterday, and he said that besides the wacky weather confusing the heck
out of the poor plants (hot days that encourage growth and bloom
followed by cold days that tell the plant it’s autumn and the surprise
shock of more blazing heat), my garden as a whole could probably use a good boost of nitrogen. It makes sense, since we’ve powered through
six or so seasons of pretty great harvests, through both winter and
summer.

This year, however, while my tomatoes
did well, and the zucchini spit out a few good fruit, the rest of the
garden – the cucumbers, peppers, tomatillos, even the easy little
radishes – they didn’t do so well. I’m still very much a novice
gardener, and while I understand peripherally the theories from all
those mandatory biology classes I had to take as a kid of a plant’s life—energy systems, photosynthesis, etc.—it’s an interesting thing when
you suddenly have to make conscious choices that will affect the
garden’s quality of life.

So, I’ll be pouring in more humus
from our compost bin, amending the soil with fertilizer, and planting
fava beans, which return nitrogen to the soil.

I find that
the No Impact carbon-cleanse is similar to the process of replenishing
my garden. It’s the time now to pause, to consider where I’m depleted,
what is filling me up with the right kind of energy, and how to
restructure my life so that I can pour in some metaphorical nitrogen.
Six months ago, I completed the experiment, and I changed many small
habits that I still keep—cloth napkins, reusable bags, shorter
showers, technology Sabbaths. I’m looking forward to this week to
consider which of the old habits returned, and to contemplate where I
can still change.

The eggplants are still growing, by the way.
They’re still pumping out those flowers, teasing me with every one. I
guess it gives me some hope. I’ve read articles that claim that without
widespread governmental and industrial change, we have little impact on
the future of our earth’s health. I suppose there’s much truth in those
arguments, but I refuse to stop trying here at home. If my eggplants
aren’t giving up, neither will I.

I love to
walk. I try to walk a few times every week, usually on the weekdays. I
follow the same path through a relatively quiet, hilly neighborhood
that leads to a relatively quiet and beautiful city park. I find that
when I walk, my mind can wander.

I begin slowly, even begrudgingly,
almost as if I have to force my legs to move forward. Quickly, though,
my mind moves out of my body into the world. I silently describe the
world, perhaps finding words to color the sky, testing my memory of the
flowers’ names—hibiscus, geranium, iris, oleander, and I remember
that it is called dafne in
Greek. And then maybe I think about the myth, one of the my favorites,
and I see the girl as she turns into a tree.

And then, finally, I focus
on my life; I think about concerns, problems, solutions, the parts that
are working, the parts that need work. In the book Architecture from the Inside Out,
which I recently borrowed from a colleague, Franck and Lepori describe
what is called a desire line, which is “the path people mark in the
ground by repeatedly taking the same route.” I love this. For me,
walking is a meditation. It is a time to breath, one of the only times
I am truly off the grid, my body moving, my mind listening to the even
beat of my own steps, marking my desires into the ground.

So,
there I was this weekend walking, specifically so that I could “replace
shopping with an activity that [I] enjoy doing more,” when I come upon
this sign: Garage Sale.

See, I usually walk on weekdays, when I can truly space out. Then, on
the weekends, here are these signs, blurring my own desire lines, hell,
blurring my own desires.

I was tempted – I really was. But
I’m proud to report that I didn’t follow the neon signs. I didn’t go
shopping, even for other people’s used stuff. I kept my money in my
pocket. I kept walking. And then I went home empty-handed, desiring
nothing.

I have these really long days at work where I go from 6 a.m. to 3 p.m.,
and I’m running between three classrooms, all on different ends of
the campus, teaching and talking for much of those nine hours. By 9 a.m.
I’m hungry for lunch, and by 11:30, when my second class gets out, I’m
nearly wiped from the sheer amount of social activity.

I’ve decided to eat vegetarian for ten days. My grandfather was a vegetarian throughout his life, having
made the decision at 17 years old after working the stockyards on the
south side of Chicago.

It’s an
interesting thing to have to think about getting off the grid, let alone
trying to eat well, when I’m running from room to room carrying
everything I own in one bag, like a Sherpa.

My goal this semester was to
lighten my load, but unfortunately, with such a hectic schedule that
goal was nearly impossible to realize. I have to carry my computer, my
rosters, assignments, students’ paper, books, my lunch, my snacks, and
enough water to last me all of those nine hours. Believe me, it’s a lot.

I have a giant rolling bag, one that fits all of this, and I pack everything in reusable containers every day.

Since the last No Impact Week, this has become habitual—I bring everything everywhere with me. Colleagues and friends are
constantly commenting on how smart it is, how much easier it seems, “how
great that you know exactly what you have to eat…” etc., etc.

Quite
frankly, it’s annoying. I would love to be able to grab lunch somewhere
and then toss out the remnants, plates and utensils, without having to
give a second thought to it. But I have to admit, I’ve become used to
the reliability of my lunch: no waiting in lines, no indigestion from
mediocre food, and the joy of knowing that my food is high quality and
tastes great.

To push myself even more during my second round of No
Impact, I’ve decided to eat vegetarian for ten days. I tried it for four
months when I was a teenager, but...I'm half-Greek, and honestly, it's hard.
I really like meat. I don't know that my long term goal is to be 100 percent
vegetarian, but I would like to lessen my impact on the environment by
eating considerably less meat.

I started my vegetarian
mini-project on Saturday, September 17, the day before the experiment
began. This date is important to me since it marked 111 years since my
grandfather’s birth. He was a vegetarian throughout his life, having
made the decision at 17 years old after working the stockyards on the
south side of Chicago. He lived to be 97 years old, and he is the only
grandparent I was able to meet.

So there I am, day three of
my experiment, pulling out my reusable lunch bag, looking forward to the
veggie burger that waited inside, to find this:

We shop at the farmers’ market nearly every week, so much so that we
know the vendors by name. I’d say that I’m fairly addicted to the
quality of produce available at the markets.

So, for my second run at the experiment, I’ve decided to try out vegetarianism for ten days.
This is tough for me—I’m half-Greek. Enough said, right? I love beef
and chicken and pork, and yes, even cute little lambs. It’s terrible, I
know.

What’s especially terrible to most of my vegetarian
and vegan friends is the fact that it doesn’t bother me that I eat cute,
fuzzy, bright-eyed animals. When they read this, they might very well
unfriend me on Facebook.

So, I’ve decided to
complete this 10-day experiment to experience life without them. Today
is my fourth day. It’s been going well. I’ve been experimenting the in
the kitchen with chickpeas, eggplants, and garlic, all from the farmers
market, and basil, from my garden.

The rest of the family
is still eating meat. My step-dad has been cooking it for my husband,
daughter, and himself. I was worried that the smell might kill me, but
oddly enough, it hasn’t bothered me one bit.

The other night
at dinner, my daughter was eating the skin off my husband’s chicken
thigh. She pointed to it and asked, out of nowhere, “Wait. Is this skin?
Like real skin?”

I’ve been fighting a cold all week. Funny thing happens when you get sick. You know that it’s your body telling you that you need rest. You know that you’ve worn yourself out, expending too much energy in too many directions, and the last thing you should do is sit down in front of the TV, especially considering the fact that you signed up for this crazy No Impact project, and because you know it will only suck out more energy. Your sinuses hurt, you’re coughing and wheezing, and you should be in bed, in a dark room, propped up on pillows, fast asleep, allowing your body to recover.

Thursday morning, Madeline even tried to make me stop working. She woke up and decided to do the dishes. Seriously. This little four-year-old girl took out her step stool, grabbed a sponge, and started to wash dishes. As she splashed around, I interceded a few times to make sure the dishes were rinsed well enough, and then I proceeded to get the lunches together, cook some eggs, and make my coffee. As I was placing the eggs into the water, she turned to me—my precocious child turned to me and said, “Mom. I told you. You’re not supposed to be doing anything. You’re sick. Let me do it. Just sit down, and stop moving!”

Is that what I did? Of course not. The other funny thing is that when I completed this project back in January, the energy day was my favorite. I shut off the lights promptly at dusk. I wrote by candlelight. I fell asleep at nine and was awake at five, watching the sunrise, feeling refreshed and utterly divine.

So, I was looking forward to Thursday night. I was planning to stop moving in my dark room, just as I had back in January. I spent the day even more away of the buzzing of energy all around me: the brass din of the leaf blower followed by a rushing wave of a miniature street cleaner while I tried to eat my homemade lunch outside; the incessant buzzing of lights and motors in the hallways at work; even in my small, quiet office, the fluorescent bulbs hum over my head. All day, I looked forward to coming home, turning off everything, laying in a dark room, or under a cloudy sky, feeling my body heavy on earth.

Instead, I plopped down in front of the television and let more energy drain out of me. The flashing images that were saved on my DVR were less “must-see” TV than “could-watch-this-next-week-and-even-fast-forward-through-commercials” TV. I fell into old habits, on the grid, sniffling and moaning all the way through.

That was Thursday night. Last Friday night, I resolved to catch up with myself. I canceled my evening plans, turned off the lights and went to bed. I woke up Saturday morning, the second day of autumn, my sinuses clear, my smooth breath returned to my body, my energy restored. I went outside and sat under the cloudy sky, stretching on my yoga mat, next to my garden. About forty minutes later, my daughter came outside with me. We sat down together, watching the birds. “This is nice,” she said.

There’s another funny thing, how that works. When we get off the grid, the grid is happier, and of course, so are we.

We had a lovely weekend, giving back and taking it easy. I’ll admit
that I did shop (the farmers market—I couldn’t last the full nine
days), we did eat out once (for hot soup for my cold that continues to
haunt my chest), and we probably drove more than we should have, but
for the most part, we spent the weekend Sabbath-ing and enjoying time
with family and friends. When we did drive it was to my daughter’s
first soccer team event, to a birthday party, and to Shane’s Inspiration playground for the 5K/10K Walk and Roll Event.

I love playgrounds, and to me, they represent some of the best parts of
living with more awareness and kindness. I could spend ten hours at a
playground, and many days, we do. We bring our lunch, spread out a
blanket, and follow Madeline around the park. I’ve learned to leave my
phone in the car, if I can, so that I can just be there, pushing her on
the swing, running next to her while she rides her little bike.

Yesterday’s event was even more special because we were able to support Shane’s Inspiration,
whose “mission is to create inclusive playgrounds and programs that
unite children of all abilities.” They build Universally Accessible
Playgrounds so that all children can play together on equipment that is
also available for children with disabilities.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 08:25:00 GMT-7ArticleChristian Blogs on No Impact Weekhttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/christian-blogs-on-no-impact-week
Christian just moved from rural Kentucky to Brooklyn, New York, where low-impact living is harder than he thought.

So far this week:

Brooklyn, New York
Three weeks ago, I moved from Berea, Kentucky to Bushwick, Brooklyn. And although a lot is different, I’m thrilled to see many things are the same. In both places, farmers markets, organic coffee shops, and
bike stores are within biking distance.

So what’s wrong? Since moving to Bushwick, my carbon footprint, meat consumption, and trash production have grown out of control. I no longer have to drive
to get to a bar, but now I’m dependent on the subway and packaged food. Perhaps it’s being removed from nature, or maybe working ten-hour days, but I’m hoping the No Impact Week will give me the kick in the butt I need to get my act together.

Live a fuller and happier life by buying less stuff.

Consumption Sunday is unfairly easy when you're poor. I suppose that's the point—all of these challenges are harder for those dependent on modern comforts. And I passed the test with flying colors, without buying a single shirt or book or Fabergé egg.

But when I looked at all the stuff in my apartment, I realized my poverty was on a relative scale. I've taken, and continue to take, far more than my fair share.

My laptop alone is made of oil, rare earth metals, and whatever LCD stands for. The electricity that runs it is mostly produced from coal yanked out from under my family back in Kentucky. Everything I own or buy is either unnecessary, offsetting its cost by exploitation, or both.

To truly do this week justice will not be easy.

Things I'm looking forward to:

Farmer's Market in Maria Hernandez Park.

Candles.

Board games.

Having an excuse to give up Facebook, email, and the internet as a whole.

Nothing makes me want to eliminate trash more than having to carry it. Because I didn't work yesterday, I had an unfair advantage. Today, I didn't fair as well.

The damage:

Reused grocery bags (2)

Paper artificial sweetener packet (1)

Receipt (1)

Placed in recycling:

Aluminum can (1)

Delayed damage:Everything I ate or used came in a disposable container, whether or not it was thrown out immediately after I used it. While it's easy to limit daily trash production by not buying individually wrapped products, the real challenge seems to come with buying goods served, transported, and prepared in reusable containers.

Reusing things a second time is a nice step, a la my use of old grocery bags to double wrap my lunch of cold pizza. But what happens after that? I've been wracking my brain all day to figure out what to do with the grocery bags that now smell like pizza.

Some ideas:

Clean them and line my shoes so that they're warmer in the winter. Con: fungus?

Clean them and use them to transport my food every day. Con: chemicals?

?

So what to do? I Googled solutions, but all of them eventually ended with the bags in the trash. The basic conceit is that the best you can do is get a second use, which is definitely not sustainable. Failure one.

I was feeling smug about the thermos I brought for coffee today, but forgot about the receipt that buying it created and the wrapper that sweetener left behind. There was a moment where I considered shrieking Nooooo! but I figured the man making my coffee had enough to deal with before I had emotional breakdown in his restaurant. Failure two.

I had a long day and wanted a beer when I got home. But I recycled it! And it was local! Come on! Failure two and a half.

I often wonder what would happen if trash was no longer picked up from our curbs. Would we carry it to the dump as often as it's picked up now? What if landfills all said "We're full," and we had to dispose of our trash in whatever space we lived in? What meaning would the term disposable take on?

Tomorrow is transportation. Legally, I can't bicycle because I don't have head and tail lights and my trip home is after dark. So I've got a choice: take the subway, or wake up at 4:00 AM, in time to walk to work. Check in tomorrow to find out which.

I wish I had a really inspiring story about waking up before the dawn, tearing up my Metrocard, and hiking across the Williamsburg bridge. I wish that I had trudged eight miles through the rain to get to work and eight miles in the dark to get home. But of course, I didn't.

I “forgot” to get lights just like I “forget” reusable bags when I go
to the grocery, or “forget” to order the vegetarian option.

I had planned to bike, but what I conveniently forgot about was New York City law. You can't legally (or safely) ride a bicycle at night without both a headlight and taillight. And I know I should have bought them as soon as I moved to the city. But of course, I didn't.

And just now, I realized that I forgot on purpose. I know, I wasn't expecting that twist either. But it's true. I “forgot” to get lights just like I “forget” reusable bags when I go to the grocery, or “forget” to order the vegetarian option.

But if this is just a question of laziness? Is it that I don't want to spend energy, or that I don't want to spend my own energy?

If I experience
a measure of wealth, someone else will experience an equal and opposite
measure of poverty. It's up to us to decide whether or not to forget
that.

Today, like every day, I took the subway, which is powered by electricity, which is powered by coal or uranium, which is mined by people who put in a hell of a lot of effort. And those same people are going to suffer through the health effects, and unfair wages, and lack of access to resources. I bet they walk to work.

My laziness is really and truly just a symptom of selfishness. On a finite planet (and we most certainly live on one), if I experience a measure of wealth, someone else will experience an equal and opposite measure of poverty. It's up to us to decide whether or not to forget that.

Tomorrow, I'm checking out the Bushwick Farmers Market at Broadway and Linden. If there's nothing edible there, I have to bike six miles to Union Square to eat breakfast. I'm actually looking forward to tomorrow's challenge.

By 6 o'clock today, my girlfriend and I were dizzy, confused, and suffering headaches. I had scoured all of Williamsburg on my bicycle trying to find a market that sold local eggs, and all I'd gotten for the trouble was a raging stomach. My girlfriend had been napping and just couldn't seem to gather enough energy to stay up. It was at that moment that we decided to bend the rules.

The first thing I do in the morning, every day, before I brush my teeth or put my contacts in or drink water, is make coffee. But coffee travels thousands of miles to get to my cup, and I want to prove to myself I can do without it.

I found a hunk of mozzarella cheese in the fridge that said it was made in New Jersey, justified using oil that we had already bought, and compromised by using free-range eggs from out of state. Now I know the cheese might have been made in New Jersey, but I'm almost positive the milk it was made from was not. How did we sink so low?

Mostly, it's coffee. It's 8:30 p.m. and I still feel like I haven't woken up yet. The first thing I do in the morning, every day, before I brush my teeth or put my contacts in or drink water, is make coffee. Without it, I'm grumpy, unfocused, and I speak in what several trusted friends have called my “superior voice.” It's a monotonous stream of sass and pointing out what people are doing wrong, and it's not pretty for anyone. But coffee travels thousands of miles to get to my cup, and I want to prove to myself I can do without it. Which means I'm writing in my superior voice.

This morning, I biked to the Bushwick Farmers Market at its Broadway/Linden location. The vendors had an incredible selection of mushrooms, vegetables, gourds, greens, fruit, and even eggplant for a cheaper price than my grocery store. But when I asked where the eggs, dairy, nuts, oil, meat, and bread were, I was told that those items are usually only available at Saturday's market in Maria Hernandez park.

Gah!!!

I had already given up my treasured vice of coffee, and now I had to give up everything else enjoyable?!? Don't get me wrong, I love vegetables. My girlfriend is a vegetarian, so I'm cooking those bad boys up all the time. But I've never sat back in my chair after eating a cucumber and said “Boy, I'm full.”

But this is an experiment, and for it to succeed I must adhere to its demands as closely as possible. So I bought $36 worth of the best Bushwick has to offer and pedaled back to the apartment in a hungry frenzy, where my girlfriend and I had a delicious breakfast of stir-fried yellow squash, broccoli, shitake mushrooms, poblano peppers, and green peppers. (Confession: I used non-local oil and soy sauce.) For the rest of the morning we felt great, but by 1:00 p.m. we were considering cannibalism. We tried to quell the fire by scarfing down tons of wonderful local apples and pears. But it persisted, to an extent that by 6:00 p.m., we were in the state I described earlier.

It seems a large part of living with no impact requires having one
person make it their job. If I didn't work, I think I could provide for
myself, my girlfriend, and my roommates, if someone else footed the
bill.

So I lightly coated some eggplant and squash slices in oil, sprinkled them with Cajun seasoning, and grilled them on high in a cast iron skillet. At the same time, I shredded some greens, minced an onion and a few cloves of local garlic, and threw them all in a pot with a little water.

When the eggplant and squash were done, I threw some eggs in the skillet, soaking up the browned and spiced oil, and scrambled them. I put the eggs, squash, and eggplant on giant leaves of greens, sprinkled with mozzarella, and garnished with thin slices of tomato.

It was spectacular, filling, and a compromise. We bent the rules with the cheese and blatantly broke them with the oil and Cajun seasoning, and it was worth it. Unfortunately, it seems as though we've already eaten all the food I bought today except for some pears and apples...and a cucumber.

It seems a large part of living with no impact requires having one person make it their job. If I didn't work, I think I could provide for myself, my girlfriend, and my roommates, if someone else footed the bill. But I have a job, and surviving on the meager provisions we have left and not drinking coffee tomorrow is going to be a huge test of my willpower. Perhaps when the caffeine leaves my body and I find a place that sells local beans, it won't be hard anymore.

Tomorrow is electricity, which I'm so on board with. I'm on the computer the entire day at work, and coming home, lighting some candles, and taking it easy sounds like heaven.

Today was an absolute wash, so I'm going to do you all a favor and skip it. I'd like to take a moment to kvetch.

In Kentucky, I only had to bike a mile to work. The farmers market was closer. If it wasn't open, there was an organic market the same distance as work. If that wasn't open, there was an Amish market less than two miles away. Failing that, there was an employee-owned grocery store an equal distance away.

Granted, Berea is much different than the average Kentucky burg. But that doesn't negate the fact that living with a small footprint is harder when you're new to New York. I have to weave through psychotic drivers if I bike, and walking only takes me to a grocery store. If the subway is off the table, what am I left with?

Really, it's not that much different than living up Stinking Creek, in Knox County, Kentucky. Just to get to the grocery store, we had to drive fifteen miles. Sure, we lived on 250 acres and I could have grown my own food, but there were other obstacles.

As a teenager on the creek, I was convinced eating anything grown in my mother's garden would kill me. The vegetables and gourds weren't perfect shapes like their supermarket counterparts, there were spots where bugs had gotten to them, and worst of all, they were grown in the same dirt that I walked on. And yet when I hit college, I did a complete 180. Probably because that's what my friends were into, but mainly because it seemed like the most logical path to take after learning about the state of the world.

A couple of years ago I taught Upward Bound, a prep program for potential first generation college students. Despite the fact that these kids were from Eastern Kentucky, few had ever spent time in a garden, let alone a farm, so I showed them Berea College's gardens and greenhouses. And they all seemed stunned to realize that things they ate grew from the ground.

The disconnection is frighteningly widespread, and, I'm convinced, not at all accidental. Until I had my reawakening in college, I felt the only safe foods to eat were processed or pasteurized or made with preservatives. Who told me this? First, McDonald's, Kellog's, Tyson, but mostly the school cafeteria.

What is always the “safe” option in the lunch room? Chicken patty. Always delicious, and that's simply fact. What are the things to avoid? Green beans, carrots, and the fruit cocktail. How can you blame a kid for wanting to eat the food that is consistently better tasting than the cooked-to-death “healthy” alternatives. And how does one keep from associating all vegetables with that same experience?

If we go to school to learn, do we absorb everything as a lesson? Are the values of an unsustainable culture institutionalized from an early age? Will I ever stop asking questions? Tune in tomorrow to find out.

It's time to tell the truth about yesterday. I had a splitting headache from the moment I woke up until I went to bed. Work was miserable, I was hungry all day, and I couldn't get away from electricity for the life of me. There was a lot I could have prevented, but I already blogged about that. Instead, I'm going to talk about some things that have been simply wonderful.

I've been capitulating all week about what I've done wrong, and I haven't stopped to think about what I've done right.

Today, my girlfriend and I took a walk in our neighborhood and decided to splurge on dinner at Cafe Ghia. The place is located on Jefferson and Irving, amongst some of Bushwick's best restaurants and bars. Like many of its neighbors, Cafe Ghia prides itself on using local produce, meat, and dairy products. But unlike many of its pricier neighbors, food prices float around a comfortable $10.

We started by ordering yellow beets with goat cheese, walnuts, and Bushwick greens, and though it did turn out to be the priciest part of our meal, it was still phenomenal. We followed that with a Havarti and fig jam panini, a cup of tomato pepper soup, and a tempeh reuben. The whole experience was perfect, and instead of wasting half an hour on the subway we got to walk through our community and have a really nice conversation.

Every week, I made it a habit to eat all-you-can eat ribs on Monday,
and all-you-can-eat wings on Wednesday. And that was on top of eating
meat at every single meal. How 'bout a pat on the back for shaking
that?

Was everything local? Probably not the fig jam. Did we use electricity? Indirectly, yes. Did we produce trash? I'm sure. Did we buy anything new? Not all week. Did we conserve water? Actually, our waitress did spill some...

I've been capitulating all week about what I've done wrong, and I haven't stopped to think about what I've done right. I haven't eaten meat all week, which might not seem that impressive. But I'd like to ask—have you ever eaten forty-one wings in a single sitting? I have, and I was still hungry afterward. Every week, I made it a habit to eat all-you-can eat ribs on Monday, and all-you-can-eat wings on Wednesday. And that was on top of eating meat at every single meal. How 'bout a pat on the back for shaking that?

I've finally started riding my bike places, and I'm taking more of an
interest in my community. Really it sounds like some kind of cheesy
infomercial, but it's true, and it's because I'm looking at things
differently.

Okay. Reading that last paragraph over, it seems like a Jabba the Hut monologue. But the point is, I think today should be a day to look back and see how far we've come. For instance, this week, I've produced barely any trash. And, it's not been some horrible obligation. On the contrary, it's been pretty refreshing to see how much I can avoid.

Now, we're not talking about recycling here. If we're counting that, then I am a one man waste-producing machine. But we're not, because we're talking about nice things.

I have had more delicious, fun meals this week than the last few months combined. I've finally started riding my bike places, and I'm taking more of an interest in my community. Really it sounds like some kind of cheesy infomercial, but it's true, and it's because I'm looking at things differently. And while things are happy and I'm patting myself on the back, I'm also going to cut myself some breaks.

Our entire society is designed to make sustainable choices difficult or impossible to make.

I love coffee. I love the taste, the feeling of it in my stomach, and the perk it gives me. So I'm not going to give it up. I did for two days, long enough to feel like I had a brain tumor, but not anymore. I drink organic, fair-trade coffee, and it's very rare for me to buy anything else. I take the subway, yes, because I don't want to be soaked with sweat and rain when I get to work. It produces CO2, I know, but it's still better than driving and I take other steps toward making a positive impact.

In Knox County, Kentucky, I had to drive everywhere. Biking wasn't even an option. Not because the distances were too great, but because the roads were so windy and the drivers so reckless. While pedaling wherever I needed to go would have been a nice statement, it could have cost me my life. And that's a legitimate excuse in my book. Which leads me to the biggest challenge I've encountered: Our entire society is designed to make sustainable choices difficult or impossible to make.

Today, we live in an age where the most revolutionary thing we can do is plant some seeds and provide for ourselves.

In an age where multinational corporations provide everything we buy, it is not only revolutionary to live simply, it is considered an act of aggression. Suburbs, urban food deserts, and, craziest of all, rural areas dependent on vehicles to access food, are all purposely designed and incredibly profitable for Exxon-Mobile, McDonald's, and the United States government.

Before, revolutions started with guns and anger. But we are no longer citizens, we're consumers. Today, we live in an age where the most revolutionary thing we can do is plant some seeds and provide for ourselves. And there's going to be resistance. From our friends, our family, our mind, and finally the system. The decision becomes: Where do we fit within or without of the grid?

Today, my girlfriend, her family, a dozen others, and I joined 350.org and No Impact Man Colin Beavan in a march from Union Square to Dag Hammarskjold Plaza in front of the United Nations Building for the Moving Planet Rally. There was a part of me that was expecting resistance and anger, perhaps people throwing fast food out their windows and screaming profanities. But really, there wasn't much of any. In fact, along our march people smiled or cheered, and some even picked up a sign and marched with us.

Not only did we give back, we had a blast doing it. The rest of the day, we hung out in our neighborhood and just enjoyed each other's company. No Facebook, no internet, no distractions.

Today was the Eco-Sabbath and I kept it holy. My roommate, her family, and I spent the morning playing the dictionary game, which is basically a carbon-free version of NPR's Says You. It was an absolute ball and all we needed were pencils, a dictionary, some scrap paper, and the sunlight that came through the windows.

After, we walked to Verde on Irving and Bleeker in Bushwick and shared some of the most incredible pizza I've ever had in my life. The restaurant has one of the oldest brick ovens in the city and one of the friendliest owners in the country. He even invited us to a Halloween party he's throwing just around the block from our apartment. If we had schlepped to Carrol Gardens to have a trendy meal, our wallets would be lighter, there would be x amount more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, and we would have no plans for the end of October.

When we returned from lunch, we napped. The best things in life are free, and carbon-neutral. And that has perhaps been the best realization of this week.

As I sit writing this, I find myself impatient to turn my computer off. I want to read a book, or have a conversation, or fix something in my apartment. I want to light some candles and I want to turn the power off.

Tonight, I'll eat a simple meal of beans and tortillas with my girlfriend and her sister. Tomorrow, I'll go to work and continue life as I was living it before this week. But in my bag will be a local pear and a local apple and a paperback novel. I may not bike to work, but I know in my heart that I will soon.

I will not let my Saturdays slip by and after wish I had gone to the farmers market. From now on, they will be planned around a trip to Maria Hernandez Park and a games with my roommates. My Sundays will be spent investing in my neighborhood.

I'm composting, eating locally, thinking about my connection to the Earth, and taking responsibility again, and it isn't keeping me from what I want to do. It's helping me find it.

I'd like to thank YES! Magazine and the No Impact Project for helping me rediscover a passion and join a community in my new home. My No Impact Week has been a blessing, and I hope that I can find a way pass the good fortune on.

]]>No publisherStories from No Impact Thursday: September 22ndStories from No Impact Saturday: September 24thStories from No Impact Wednesday: September 21stStories from No Impact Friday: September 23rdStories from No Impact Monday: September 19thStories from the Eco-Sabbath: September 25thStories from No Impact Sunday: September 18thStories from No Impact Tuesday: September 20th2011/09/19 00:00:00 GMT-7ArticleNo Impact Thursday: Share Your Storieshttp://www.yesmagazine.org/planet/no-impact-week-with-yes-september-2011-2/no-impact-thursday-share-your-stories
Stories, insights, tips, and more from the fifth day of No Impact Week: September 22nd.

Congratulations on completing your fifth day of No Impact Week!
You're learning how to replace kilowatts with ingenuity.

Tell us how it went by clicking "Comment on this article" below, and post your photos and videos to our Facebook page.

You can also send attachments and video urls to outreach@yesmagazine.org.

Don't forget to respond to each other to offer words of encouragement!